


Book One: The Philosopher's Stone

by Chasingstardust22



Series: Hiccup Haddock [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Abuse/Mentions of Abuse, Minor Violence, Swearing, Updates on Mondays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2017-03-06
Packaged: 2018-08-27 23:22:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 73,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8421613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chasingstardust22/pseuds/Chasingstardust22
Summary: Hiccup Haddock was never a normal boy. Strange things always happened around him, things no one could explain. He has a scar, but where did it come from? Why did his parents die in a car crash, yet he survived with only the aforementioned scar to tell the tale? Why do his Aunt and Uncle hate him so much? These are the questions Hiccup's been asking for as long as he can remember, and on his eleventh birthday, he finally gets the answer—He's a Viking.Still with us? Good, because it only gets weirder from here.





	1. The Boy Who Lived

**Hello, everyone. Welcome to the Hiccup Haddock Series, essentially the How To Train Your Dragon characters placed within the general plot of Harry Potter. Please note that, no matter how similar the wording may be at times, this is _not_ just a direct copying of J.K Rowling's story. I give all credit to her for inspiration (and general love, because she's amazing), but this universe is my own, and there will be new characters and adventures all along the way.**

**Disclaimer: I, Chasingstardust22, do not own Harry Potter or any of its copyrighted characters. I also do not own How To Train Your Dragon or any of _its_ copyrighted characters. I make no money off of this project, nor do I want to. All rights go to the respective owners, and please, _please_ go read/watch the original source material, because it's so much better than anything I could write.**

**With all that said and done, let's get started.**

* * *

_Chapter One: The Boy Who Lived_

* * *

Björn and SkaÐi Dalvor, who lived in house number four on Privet Drive, told anyone they could that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. You would never expect them to be involved in anything strange, mysterious, or even slightly interesting. They simply didn't hold with such utter nonsense.

Mr. Dalvor was a director at a massive drill-making company called Grunnings. He was a stout, burly man with hardly any neck, though he did have a rather large, bushy mustache. His wife, Mrs. Dalvor, was a bony platinum blonde with knife-like blue eyes and roughly twice the amount of usual neck. She was, surprisingly, very proud of these traits, likely because they made it easier for her to spy on her unsuspecting neighbors. They had a son, a chubby one year old named Balder, and as far as they were concerned, there had never been a finer child, and there never would be.

Yes, the Dalvors had essentially everything they desired in life; except, that is, for the "picture perfect" relatives. There was nothing they feared more than anyone discovering Mrs. Dalvor’s relations. You see, she had a younger sister, Valka Haddock, or Valka the Gentle, as she was referred to these days. Not that many people on their street knew about her; it had been a long time since Valka, or her husband Stoick the Vast, had been invited into the neighborhood. In fact, SkaÐi often tried to pretend that she didn't _have_  a sister, because Valka and her good-for-nothing husband were as un-Dalvorish as it was humanly possible to be.

The Dalvors knew that the Haddocks had a small child as well; a boy named Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the third. However, in the fifteen months since the boy’s birth, they had only seen a small photo of him. This "Hiccup" was another reason the Dalvors wanted to keep the Haddocks as far away as they could—they most certainly didn't want their precious little Balder anywhere near a child like  _that_.

When Björn and SkaÐi Dalvor awoke on the dreary, grayish Tuesday morning where this tale begins, nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. Mr. Dalvor hummed a popular tune from his youth as he selected his best, most boring tie for work, and Mrs. Dalvor happily gossiped away on her cellphone as she attempted to wrestle a screeching Balder into his high chair.

If any of them noticed a little red dragon swooping past the living room window, a sign of a truly odd day, then no one bothered to say anything about it. After all, no matter how bizarre the day may be, it couldn't affect _them_...Could it?

* * *

It could. It did.

Later that night, as the three Dalvors drifted off to sleep, something very bizarre indeed happened; an old man appeared on the street below. He appeared so silently that one would have thought he simply popped out of the sidewalk, like a weed. The likes of this here man had never been seen (or wanted to be seen) by the quiet little street. He was tall and brawny, with silver-grey hair and a matching beard, the latter of which was so long and wild that it had to be carefully tucked away into his belt. He wore a pitch black tunic, greenish-brownish trousers, black boots, and a horned helmet famous for being used by the Vikings. And what was this man's name?

They called him Alvis the Noble.

Everything from his title to the bits of gravel stuck underneath his boots was unwanted by the Dalvors and many of their neighbors. But Alvis didn't seem to be aware of it; in fact, he was busily rummaging through his trouser pocket. What he  _did_  notice, however, was the tabby cat that was sitting at the corner of the street, its eyes narrowed in his direction.

He chuckled merrily. "Somehow I knew you’d be here, Phlegma."

It was at that moment that Alvis found what he was looking for; a strange mechanism that looked remarkably like a cross between a silver cigarette lighter and a curved dagger. He flicked it open and clicked it twelve times—one for each street lamp, all of which went out, one by one, with an audible _pop_. Even the most sharp-eyed of people would have trouble seeing what was happening outside of the safety of their homes. With that done, he turned to smile at the cat, only to find that a severe-looking woman was standing in its place. She was dressed similarly to him, only with an almost absurd amount of additional armor, as if she expected a battle to rage at any moment.

"What gave me away?" she demanded, looking cross.

"My dear, never in all of my life have I seen a _true_ cat sit so stiffly."

"You would be stiff too, if you’d sat on a brick wall since the crack of dawn," Phlegma responded with a slight wince, rubbing her behind subconsciously.

"Sweet Thor, Phlegma, you've been here all day? When you could have been out celebrating? Why, I must have passed at least a dozen feasts and parties on my way here."

"As much as I enjoy a Viking party, especially after all this time, they're being too reckless. Even the Muggles are beginning to notice!" she fired back. "They aren’t entirely stupid, after all. It would be a fine thing if the Muggles find out about our world on the very same day we were freed from The Dragon Lord…He—he _is_  gone, isn't he, Alvis?"

"It would certainty seem so. There is much to be thankful for."

"Well then, even if the Dragon Lord  _has_  gone—"

"Phlegma the Fierce, surely a person as brave as you can refer to Drago Bludvist by his name?" Alvis interrupted.

The woman flinched as though he had just brandished a whip at her. "You know you're the only Viking that the Dragon Lord—oh alright, alright, _Drago Bludvist_ —" she shuddered—"was afraid of."

"You flatter me, my dear lady," Alvis said, tipping his helmet to her. "Truly, you do. But Drago had powers that I will never have."

"You  _do_  have them, Alvis, it's just you're that too—well— _noble_  to actually use them."

"Thank the gods that it's dark out here; I haven't blushed this much since Bergljot the Helpful told me how much she liked my new earmuffs..."

Phlegma was less than amused. "I've heard the ridiculous rumors of how he was defeated. That he killed—killed—Alvis; these rumors aren't true, are they?"

Alvis bowed his head solemnly, earning a horrified gasp from Phlegma. "Oh Gods...Valka—my best friend— and Stoick...I can't—I don't want to believe it...Oh Alvis..."

"I know, I know," Alvis said heavily, patting her shoulder in a comforting sort of way. "The loss is immeasurable."

"But that's not all," Phlegma went on, the unshed tears still shining in her eyes, threatening to fall, "They say he tried to kill their little baby son, H-Hiccup...and yet he couldn't do it. That after all of the people he's killed, he couldn't off that one child. Is it...?" Her voice died away as Alvis nodded.

"We can only guess how it happened; we may never know for sure," he said, before glancing at his watch. Said watch was rather peculiar, with twelve hands and little planets instead of numbers. It somehow made sense to him, though. "Gobber's running late, I'm afraid. Was he the one who told you I would be here?"

"Yes, and I don't suppose you're going to tell me  _why_  you are here, of all places? Planning to tell them not to expect any more occasional letters?"

"I've come to leave Hiccup with his aunt and uncle, seeing as they are the only family he has left now," Alvis stated.

Phlegma practically choked. "Y-you mean to leave him with the Dalvors?! Sweet Valhalla, Alvis, you can't! Valka told me about her sister a thousand times, and I have to say I believe every last word. Her husband is, somehow, even worse than her, and don't even get me started on their spoiled twat of a son! No doubt about it; these people are the worst lot of Muggles I've ever seen! You couldn’t find people any less like us if you tried! Hiccup Haddock, my poor godson, raised  _here_?! They'll never understand him! He'll be famous—a legend—every child in our world shall know his name!"

"Indeed he will be, dear Phlegma. Can you imagine that; being famous before he could walk and talk? Famous for something he can’t even remember happening? It would be enough to turn any boy’s head, especially when it cost him his parents. I assure you that young Hiccup will be much better off here, growing up far away from it all until he is ready," Alvis reasoned.

Before Phlegma could protest further, or even speak at all, a low flapping noise filled the air. Both turned around to see a brown, lumpy-looking dragon with tiny wings and a mace like tail. The dragon looked like it was falling asleep right then and there. How it managed to land safely was a true mystery, but as soon as it did it toppled over and snoozed away, sounding an awful bit like an old motorcycle.

If the dragon looked strange, though, it was absolutely  _nothing_  compared to the man who had been riding it. He was almost twice the size of a normal man, and roughly three times as big. His blond hair and rope-like mustache was scorched at the ends, giving him a wild effect. He was peg-legged, wore clothing similar to the others, only more burned, and his left hand had been replaced by an icy blue mace, which looked quite a bit like the dragon's tail. In his right arm was a small bundle of blankets.

He slid off of the dragon with an almost practiced ease. "Alvis sir, Phlegma," he greeted.

"What took you so long, Gobber?" Phlegma asked, still feeling a bit agitated.

"The house was almost completely destroyed when I got there. Alvin told me he searched every inch for the Dragon Lord's body, but he only found Stoick and Valka's," Gobber explained, his expression becoming increasingly saddened.

"Were there any problems in getting young Hiccup here?" Alvis asked.

In answer, Gobber moved to hand Alvis the small bundle. "No trouble whatsoever; the poor lad fell asleep soon after we took off. Might've been Grump's slow flying..."

There, sound asleep within the blankets, was a frail baby boy, perhaps a year old. Under a tuft of the baby's auburn brown locks was a curious-looking scar, distinctly shaped like a bolt of lightning.

"Is that where...Oh gods…Alvis, you can do something about that scar, can't you?" Phlegma questioned.

"I'm afraid not, my dear; he'll have that scar till the day he passes on to Valhalla. It won't be so bad, though; after all, a scar is a Viking's badge of honor," Alvis responded, taking young Hiccup gently before walking over and placing him on the Dalvor's pristine doorstep. He paused when a small sob escaped Gobber.

"Oh Gobber, there’s no need for tears. It’s not  _really_  goodbye. After all, we'll see him again in ten years," he said.

"Y-you're right," Gobber sniveled. "B-besides, a Viking never cries."

The dragon finally woke up and nudged the giant affectionately. This seemed to make Gobber feel a little better. He climbed onto the dragon's back and flew away.

"I shall see you soon, Phlegma," Alvis said softly.

A disheartened  _meow_  was all he got in reply.

He turned to leave, and then remembered something. Reaching towards his pocket again, he pulled out an envelope and placed it atop the bundle. "Good luck, Hiccup Haddock."

With that, Alvis turned the lights back on with a single click of the put-outer, and with a soft  _swish_ , he was gone.

An icy breeze flooded through the late evening air. Little Hiccup shivered and rolled in his blankets, his emerald green eyes opening a sliver. He was calmed by the sight of the red Terrible Terror that had flown past the Dalvor's window that morning. It had been his father's carrier dragon, ever so affectionately named Blood-Spatter.

Comforted, Hiccup yawned and went back to sleep, blissfully unaware of his parent's deaths, or that Alvis had sent Blood-Spatter to watch over Hiccup as he grew into a young man.

The infant, bless him, didn't know he was famous, didn't know he was special, didn't know that he would be rudely awoken in a few hours' time, and go on to feel unloved and unwanted for nearly ten years...Nor could he possibly know that at that very moment, people met in secret all over the country, simply to lift their tankards and holler drunkenly into the night: "To Hiccup Haddock—the boy who lived!"

* * *

**Well guys, what do you think? Good? Bad? Has potential? Please let me know, and feel free to leave a suggestion for something to include in the story while you're at it. I can't promise that I will use your idea, but I will definitely try to, and credit will _always_ be given.**

**Thank you so much for reading.**


	2. The "Winged Lizard"

**Happy Día de los Muertos! (Day of the Dead for those of you who don't speak Spanish) Here's chapter two!**

* * *

_Chapter Two: The "Winged Lizard"_

* * *

Almost ten years have passed since the fateful morning that the Dalvors awoke to find their freshly orphaned nephew asleep on the doorstep. And yet, Privet Drive really hadn't changed. The sun still rose slowly through the crisp morning air, shining faint light into the Dalvor's spotless living room, which looked almost identical to the way it had nearly a decade before. The pictures on the mantel and walls were the only evidence that time had taken its course.

Ten years ago, there had been lots of pictures of what looked like a large pink beach ball wearing different-colored bonnets. Now the photographs showed a large blond boy standing beside his first bicycle, riding a thrilling roller coaster at the fair, playing a violent computer game with his father, getting hugged and kissed by his mother, and generally being spoiled rotten.

Now, judging by these photos, one would never guess that another child lived in this house. But young Hiccup Haddock was still there, currently sound asleep—

"GET UP, YOU BRAT!"

...Or at least, he was, before his Aunt SkaÐi decided to rap on the door and screech out the first unpleasant sound of the day. It was a wonder that she didn't wake all the neighbors.

She certainly woke up Blood-Spatter, though. The dragon let out a quiet hiss of irritation, before gently tugging on some of his young master’s hair to wake him.

"I'm up, I'm up," Hiccup groaned. It had been aimed at the dragon, but as SkaÐi couldn't see that the dragon was inside, she assumed it was meant for her.

"Well then get dressed and cook the bacon. And don't you **dare** burn it this time—"

"It's not like I  _tried_  to; Balder shoved me!"

Aunt SkaÐi was definitely glaring at him now; Hiccup could almost see the holes forming in the door. "Don't give me that nonsense! I want everything to be absolutely perfect for my baby boy’s special day."

"Also known as my least favorite day," Hiccup muttered. She snarled, but thankfully left him in peace.

 _"Not that you have many good ones,"_ Blood-Spatter commented casually, arching his back the way a cat would.

Hiccup gave the dragon a playful shove. "Be quiet, ya useless reptile."

"YOU HAD BETTER NOT HAVE LET THAT BEAST INSIDE AGAIN!" his Aunt SkaÐi screeched from the kitchen.

Ignoring her, Hiccup stood up and stretched, his head bumping against the cupboard ceiling as he did so. The damn thing was getting too small for him, but at least that meant he was growing. He quickly got dressed and entered the kitchen.

The normally squeaky-clean dining table was now completely covered with wrapped presents big and small. Hiccup knew from past experience that half of them would never be touched again after today, while maybe— _maybe—_ a third of it would last longer than a week.

 _"Hey, how much of this junk do you think I could nick for you?"_ Blood-Spatter asked from his position on Hiccup’s right shoulder.

"Sh," Hiccup mock scolded, barely containing his own little grin.

Uncle Björn, who was sitting at the table, glanced up from his coffee just in time to notice Hiccup’s entrance. "About time," he barked, by means of a morning greeting.

Hiccup rolled his eyes and went to cook the bacon. Just as he was finishing up, (and he felt rather proud of himself, because he managed to  _not_  burn any) a massively fat blob burst through and landed in a seat at the table. And it sent Hiccup tumbling to the floor in the process.

 _"Watch it, fatso!"_ Blood-Spatter roared in indignation.

Said "fatso" was in fact Hiccup’s older cousin, Balder. His name meant prince, and all things considered, Hiccup supposed it was correct. Balder looked quite a bit like his father, though he had his mother’s hair and eye color. From the time they were little, Hiccup had always believed that his cousin looked like a pig in a wig, but as he got older he had realized that that was offensive to pigs. His aunt and uncle, on the other hand, liked to tell people that their son "looked like Thor himself", which prompted Hiccup to stay far away from them so that if the god of thunder decided to strike them for their utter stupidity, he wouldn’t get caught in the fray.

Even though they were related through his mother, Hiccup looked nothing like the Dalvors. Likely as a result of living in a cupboard ever since he could walk, he had always been rather small and scrawny for his age. He looked even smaller in Balder’s old clothes, which were worn, ragged, and roughly five times his size. His auburn hair was a scraggly mess that parted to the right no matter what he did to it, his face was covered in so many freckles that his cousin had once attempted to play connect-the-dots with them, and he had emerald green eyes.

Though it was far better than his cousin’s, Hiccup didn’t really like his appearance. The only possible exception to this was the lightning-bolt scar on his forehead. That scar had been there for as long as he could remember, and a part of him felt oddly proud of it. He used to ask his aunt and uncle how he got it, but the answer was always the same.

"It’s from the car crash that killed your parents. Now stop asking questions!"

 _Stop asking questions_ —the first rule for a quiet life with the Dalvors…And also the one that Hiccup had a lot of trouble following.

Deep down, Hiccup couldn’t shake the feeling that they were lying to him. But what else could he believe? All he had left of his parents was their names, Stoick and Valka Haddock, and what little Blood-Spatter would tell him.

(Oddly enough, whenever he tried to remember them, all he got was a flash of green fire and a searing pain in his forehead. He sincerely doubted that that could have come from a car crash)

When he finally managed to get up, Hiccup brought the large plate of bacon over to the table; quite the feat with only a couple inches of space to work with. Meanwhile, Balder was trying to count his birthday presents. His face fell, nearly causing an earthquake upon impact.

"Why are there only thirty six presents!?" he complained to his parents. "That’s one less than last year!"

Hiccup couldn’t quite contain his snort. At least Balder  _got_ presents. For his last birthday, his aunt and uncle had given him an old and very smelly pair of socks, which he stubbornly refused to wear, even if his others were all falling apart. He’d learn to knit if he had to.

"Well, some of them are bigger than last year," Uncle Björn said, trying to calm down his son.

"I don't care how big they are!" Balder yelled, going red in the face. "It’s still not enough!"

Aunt SkaÐi obviously sensed the temper tantrum forming, because she spoke in a sickeningly sweet voice that made Hiccup feel the sudden urge to throw up. "Well, we’ll buy you _three_ more presents at the Zoo today. How’s that, pumpkin? Is that alright?"

Balder began trying to do the math. It looked like hard work. "So I’ll have thirty…thirty…"

"Thirty nine," Hiccup told him, rolling his eyes in irritation as he fed Blood-Spatter a bit of his bacon.

Balder, now content, began ripping open his presents. Just then, the telephone rang.

"I’ll get it; keep opening your presents, darling," Aunt SkaÐi said, pushing away from the table and going out into the hallway.

Hiccup, Uncle Björn and Blood-Spatter watched as Balder yanked open gift after gift. He had gotten a video camera, a remote control airplane, and sixteen new computer games, all of which were rated eighteen and up. Aunt SkaÐi returned just as Balder was examining his golden wristwatch. She was glaring directly at Hiccup, as though he had done something wrong. Maybe he had; it wouldn’t be the first time.

Uncle Björn peered at his wife, obviously concerned. "SkaÐi, what’s the matter? What did he do this time?"

"For once, nothing. Mrs. Figgs has broken her leg—tripped over a cat or something, I wasn’t really listening at that point—and can’t take care of  _him_."

Balder’s mouth fell open in horror (there went another earthquake), but Hiccup’s heart gave a leap. Every year, his aunt and uncle took Balder out for the day, anywhere he wanted. Hiccup was always left behind with Mrs. Figgs, a kind but rather eccentric old lady who lived two streets away. He felt bad for her, sure, but if she wasn’t able to take care of him…

"Well, we could call in Olga," Uncle Björn suggested.

"Don’t be silly, love, she’s so far away! And she detests the boy!"

They often spoke about Hiccup like this, as though he had suddenly vanished into thin air.

"You could just leave me here," he put in hopefully. He’d never been allowed to stay home alone, not outside of his cupboard anyway.

Aunt SkaÐi looked like she’d just swallowed a lemon or two. "And come home to find the entire street in ruins?!"

"Honestly, I won’t—" Hiccup started, his temper flaring.

But she continued as though he had never spoken. "Now, I suppose we could take him to the zoo, and just leave him in the car…"

"I’m pretty sure you’d get in trouble with the authorities for that," Hiccup pointed out.

"That car is new, he’s not staying in it alone," Uncle Björn retorted, as though he was talking about a puppy and not his ten year old nephew.

Balder began to wail loudly. In fact, he wasn’t  _really_  crying—it had been years since he’d done that—but he knew that if he did this, his mother would give him anything he desired.

Without fail, Aunt SkaÐi flung her arms around her massive son. "Baldy sweetie, please don’t cry! Mummy won’t let that horrid boy ruin your special day!"

 "I…don’t…want…him…to…come!" Balder yelled between huge, over-the-top pretend sobs. "He always spoils everything!"

And he shot Hiccup a nasty grin through the gap in his mother’s arms.

Hiccup groaned inwardly. This was going to be a  _long_ day…

* * *

Half an hour later, Hiccup couldn’t believe his stroke of luck. He was actually going to the zoo! His aunt and uncle had wracked their brains for a solid ten minutes, but they hadn’t been able to think of anyone they knew who would willingly take him. So after promising Balder another three presents and making sure that Blood-Spatter was left behind, they got ready to leave.

However, before they left, Uncle Björn yanked him aside and snarled, "I’m warning you right now, runt. Any funny business, anything at all, and you’ll be in that cupboard for a  _week_."

He hadn’t seemed assured by Hiccup’s promise.

Admittedly, Hiccup _was_  a bit abnormal, even without Blood-Spatter. For one, he was practically immune to fire, and he and Blood-Spatter often took refuge in flames whenever they could. The memory of a pudgy, five year old Balder shoving him into the roaring fireplace at Snoggletog, only to find out that his cousin didn’t mind the heat, still made Hiccup snicker a bit.

He also had this strange fascination with flying. Every night, Hiccup’s dreams would always include speeding through the clouds, with the sound of wildly flapping wings and his own elated laughter filling the air. Despite the fact that it confused him, he really liked that dream.

By far, however, the weirdest thing about Hiccup was the people he attracted. Strange people, often missing limbs, would come up to him. The adults would whisper to each other in excitement, while the children would merely gape and point.

So yes, he was strange. Everywhere he went with the Dalvors, he would get this talk, and for some reason he would get blamed for everything that seemed to go wrong, even if he couldn’t have possibly had anything to do with it.

Today, Hiccup just had to hope and pray that nothing went wrong.

* * *

Murphy’s Law: If it can go wrong, it  _will_  go wrong. This was an apt summary of Hiccup’s life.

The saddest thing was that the day had been going so well until after lunch, when they entered the reptile house. Hiccup liked it in there; it was cool and dark, with dimly lit windows all along the walls. Behind the glass, all sorts of lizards and snakes were resting on bits of wood and stone.

Balder instantly gravitated over to a ‘new attraction’ in the corner.

"Mummy!" he cried, his eyes wide in surprise. "Mummy, come look at this thing! It’s got  _wings_! Just like Hiccup’s lizard!"

" _Dragon_ ," Hiccup groaned. Blood-Spatter hated little more than being called a lizard, and over the years Hiccup had inherited that little pet peeve.

"Lizard," his uncle growled, hitting him upside the head after quickly checking to make sure no one was paying attention. "There’s no such thing as dragons."

The three of them walked over to Balder. Inside the tank was a large lizard, about the size of a small dog, with dark green scales and reddish-brown highlights. When it saw them, the lizard stretched like a cat, revealing its wings.

Aunt SkaÐi drew in a sharp breath, glared at Hiccup as though he had somehow planned this, and led Balder away towards "Something normal". Uncle Björn followed, muttering curses under his breath. Hiccup, however, remained at the tank, transfixed.

The dragon stared up at him, clearly just as curious.

 _“What do you want, hatchling?”_ It squawked up to him.

Hiccup glanced around to make sure he was alone before answering. "Um…Hello…Sorry, I’m just not used to seeing another dragon…"

 _“I’m a Terrible Terror, technically,”_ The dragon corrected, regarding him in interest.  _“Wait a minute…You can understand me?”_

Hiccup nodded. "I hear my dragon, Blood-Spatter, speak all of the time."

_“Hm…this is weird…Hey, what’s your name?”_

"H-hiccup Haddock," he answered.

The dragon shot up a few feet in the air.  _“HICCUP HADDOCK?!”_

Hiccup nodded, rather stunned by the dragon’s reaction.

_"Why are you here?! This is no place for someone as important as you!"_

Important? Him? "Wait, what do you—"

"MUMMY, DADDY, COME HERE! YOU WON’T _BELIEVE_ WHAT THIS WINGED LIZARD IS DOING!" Balder yelled as he ran towards the tank with a surprising speed. Once he got there, he shoved Hiccup into the wall. "Stay out of my way, runt."

 _“HICCUP!”_  the dragon cried. Hiccup stood shakily, glaring at his cousin as he placed his left hand against the glass for support.

What happened next came as a shock to Hiccup; the glass beneath his hand began to _boil_. Within mere seconds it had cracks shaped like that of a spider web. Balder, who had been leaning against the glass, was so fat that he smashed the weakened glass, falling into the tank. The dragon flew over to Hiccup and perched on his right shoulder, just like Blood-Spatter would.

 _“Serves him right, the big bully,”_  it said.

Hiccup nodded, snickering to himself. "I think he needed that."

_“I know he needed that. No child where I’m from would dare do that to you.”_

Hiccup paused. "Where are you from, anyways? I’ve only seen one dragon before."

_“I come from an island, named Berk. Recently, however, I’ve been staying in a shop, just waiting for someone to come and pick me as their dragon. No one’s done it, of course; they don’t want a common Terrible Terror like me. Oh no, I think it’s the muggle’s father.”_

Before Hiccup could ask what a muggle was, (or how a dragon could possibly be considered common) his uncle grabbed the dragon by its tail. In response, the dragon bit down hard on his fingers, making the man let go and scream for all of Midgard to hear. It was almost matched by Aunt SkaÐi, who was attempting to heave Balder out of the tank.

 _“The spoiled apple didn’t fall far from the rotten tree!”_  the dragon chortled, clearly pleased with itself. _“Well, I’d better go. See you later, Hiccup!”_

With that, it flew away, soaring with ease over the crowd’s heads. Hiccup couldn’t help himself; he started to laugh at the sight. It died in his throat, however, when Uncle Björn turned red. Hiccup gulped, knowing that he was going to find some way to blame him for this.

* * *

Sure enough, Uncle Björn hauled him over to his cupboard once they were safely inside and Balder had been carted off to his room.

"Why did that blasted thing bite me, hmm?" the man snarled, holding Hiccup up by his hair. He sounded rather deranged. "Right after you spoke to it like it was an old friend? And how did you break the glass? Tell me what happened!"

"I don’t know!" Hiccup yelled, struggling to break free. "I swear I don't know how it happened—it was like magic!"

He wished he’d kept his mouth shut. He’d only served to make his uncle even angrier.

Uncle Björn shoved him into the cupboard, knocking Hiccup’s head against the top in the process. "THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS MAGIC!" he bellowed, before slamming the door shut, leaving Hiccup to fade into the realm of unconsciousness…

* * *

**That got a little darker than the original. I spent a good amount of time just wondering "How can I make Hiccup's life even more miserable?"**

**Yes, that is why I put "Mentions of abuse" in the notes. I should probably edit that, actually...**

**See you later guys! Don't forget to leave a review!**


	3. The Letters From No One

**(Nothing to say here...♥)**

* * *

_Chapter Three: The Letters From No One_

* * *

It was the longest punishment Hiccup had ever had. By the time he was allowed back out of his cupboard, the summer holidays had already started.

All things considered, Hiccup was relieved that school was over. He did well enough there, and his teachers often swore that he was the most intelligent student they had ever seen, but that wasn't saying much. Besides, none of his classmates really liked him, thanks in part to Balder.

Speaking of which, there was still no escape from his cousin’s gang of wannabe thugs, who visited the house every single day for hours on end. The gang was made up of the biggest and stupidest boys at school, but as Balder was the biggest and stupidest of them all, he was the leader. The others were more than happy to aid Balder in his favorite game: Hiccup-hunting. Thankfully, even if they managed to find him, they could never catch him. Hiccup didn't look it, but he was the fastest boy in their entire school. He rather thought it was because of trying to keep up with Blood-Spatter, and away from his cousin, all these years.

Even so, Hiccup spent most of his time hiding in the local library, knowing that it was the one place his cousin wouldn't enter if his life depended on it. Besides, he actually liked to read.

There was a small ray of hope on the horizon. When September came, Hiccup and Balder would be going to secondary school, and for the first time ever, they wouldn’t be stuck with each other. Balder was going to Uncle Björn's old school, Smeltings. Most of his gang was going there as well. Hiccup, on the other hand, would be attending Stonewall High, the local comprehensive. Balder thought that it was hilarious.

"They stuff people's heads down the toilet on their first day at Stonewall," he gleefully told Hiccup early one morning.

"Speaking from experience, are we?" Hiccup asked, raising an eyebrow.

Balder shook his head, not getting the joke. "No, stupid, I've never been to Stonewall…Anyways, want to come upstairs and practice?"

"It's a generous offer," Hiccup said, snickering. "But I'm afraid I have to refuse. You see, that poor toilet's never had anything as horrible as your head in it…I wouldn’t want it to get sick."

By the time Balder had worked out what he'd said, Hiccup had already run away.

One day in July, Aunt SkaÐi had taken Balder to London to buy his Smelting uniform. Later that same evening, Balder was parading around the living-room for the family in his brand-new uniform.

Smelting boys wore maroon tailcoats, orange knickerbockers and flat straw hats called boaters. They also carried knobby sticks, used for hitting each other while the teachers weren't looking. Why they needed them was a complete mystery to Hiccup, unlike the fact that Balder had taken to trying to hit him with it whenever they crossed paths.

As he looked at Balder in his new knickerbockers, Uncle Björn claimed that it was one of the proudest moments in his life. Aunt SkaÐi burst into tears and said that she couldn't believe that it was her little baby boy; he looked so handsome and grown-up. Hiccup thought that she must have suddenly become short sighted, because Balder looked absolutely ridiculous, and he had to stuff his face into his new library book to keep himself from laughing too hard.

* * *

The next morning, when he went into the kitchen for breakfast, Hiccup noticed a rather repugnant smell. It appeared to be coming from a large metal tub in the sink. Upon further inspection, he saw that it was full of filthy rags, swirling in the murky grey water.

"What's this?" he asked his aunt, trying not to gag.

Her lips tightened, as they always did whenever he dared to ask her a question. This happened often, as Hiccup was a very curious person.

"It's your new school uniform," she answered stiffly. "And don’t ask questions."

Hiccup gave the rags an incredulous look.

"Sorry, I just didn't realize that it had to be so wet and smelly," he said.

"Don't be stupid, boy," Aunt SkaÐi snapped, clearly not hearing his sarcasm. "I'm dying some of Balder's old things grey for you. The smell will go away, and it'll look just like everyone else's when I'm finished."

Hiccup snorted. "Or look like bits of old elephant skin we sewed together; one of the two," he muttered under his breath. He sat down at the table, trying not to think about how he would get laughed at on his first day at Stonewall.

Balder and Uncle Björn walked in, both with wrinkled noses because of the smell of Hiccup's new "uniform". Uncle Björn opened his newspaper as usual and Balder banged his Smelting's stick, which he carried everywhere, on the table.

They heard the click of the mail slot and the flop of letters on the doormat.

"Get the post, Balder," Uncle Björn said from behind his paper.

"No, make Hiccup get it."

"Get the post, Hiccup."

"No, make Balder get it."

"Poke him with your Smelting's stick, Balder."

It had been worth a shot.

Hiccup easily dodged the Smelting stick and went to get the post. Three things laid on the doormat: a postcard from Uncle Björn's sister Olga, who was vacationing on the Isle of Wight, a brown envelope that looked like a bill and— _a letter for him_.

Hiccup picked up the letter with shaking hands, his heart racing. Who would have written to him? He had no friends, no other relatives, and he had just gotten his book two days ago, so it couldn't have been from the library. Yet there it was, a letter, addressed so plainly there could be no mistake:

**_Mr. H. Horrendous Haddock III_ **

**_The Cupboard under the Stairs_ **

**_4 Privet Drive_ **

**_Little Whinging_ **

**_Surrey_ **

Whoever sent the letter knew his full name, and Hiccup had never told anyone his full name. Even  _Balder_  had never heard it. They also knew that he slept in the cupboard under the stairs, which was extra troubling. He looked around the hallway, trying to see if he was being watched. When he found nothing, he turned his attention back to the letter.

The envelope was thick and heavy, made of yellowish parchment, and the address was written in emerald green ink. There was no stamp.

Hiccup turned the envelope over gently, as though it was a bomb that could go off at any minute. He saw a purple seal bearing a coat of arms, with what looked like four dragons; a red one with four curved horns, a blue bird-like dragon with a lot of spikes, a yellow lump of a dragon, and one with two snake-like heads, all surrounding a large letter 'B'.

"Hurry up, boy!" Uncle Björn called from the kitchen. "What are you doing, checking for letter-bombs?" He chuckled at his own joke.

Hiccup ignored him, choosing instead to rip open the letter right then and there. He began to read hungrily;

 _Berk Dragon Academy of Vikings and Valkyries_  
_Headmaster: Alvis the Noble_  
_(Order of Haddock, First Class, Grand Warrior, Chf. Berserker, Supreme Mugwump, and International Confed. of Vikings)_

 _Dear Mr. Haddock,_  
_We are pleased to inform you that—_

But before he could read any more, the letter was snatched out of his hands.

"Hey! That's mine!" Hiccup yelled, trying to snatch it back.

"Who'd be writing to _you_?" Uncle Björn sneered.

When he glanced at the letter, his face went from red to green faster than a set of traffic lights. And it didn't stop there, either; within seconds it was the greyish white of old porridge.

"S-SkaÐi!" he gasped, running back into the kitchen. Hiccup followed, seething.

Aunt SkaÐi took the letter curiously and started to read. For a moment, Hiccup thought she was going to faint. She clutched her throat and made a choking noise.

"Oh no, no, no, no, no, no…Björn, what do we do?!"

The letter seemed to freak the both them out, and Hiccup had a confirmation that they hadn't told him the truth about himself. It was at that point he realized that the rest of the letter in his Uncle's hand must have held the answers that he had longed for ever since he was little.

"I want to read that letter," Balder said, trying to grab it.

" _I_  want to finish it," Hiccup said furiously, "as it's  _mine_."

"Get out, both of you," Uncle Björn croaked, stuffing the letter back inside its envelope.

Balder seemed stunned that he had been refused anything, but Hiccup almost grew taller in rage. He rarely ever got this angry, but when he did, nobody wanted to be within a hundred miles of him. Blood-Spatter called it "berserker rage".

"I WANT MY LETTER!" he roared.

"GET OUT!" Uncle Björn bellowed, as he took both Hiccup and Balder by the scruffs of their necks. When he got to the door, he gasped in pain and dropped Hiccup, who promptly scorched the wooden floor beneath him. After gently setting Balder on his feet, Uncle Björn slammed the door in their faces. Both of them stared at the keyhole.

Balder turned to Hiccup, clearly about to start a fight for it, but something about the angry look on Hiccup's face as he pulled himself up off the ground seemed to frighten the big bully. He turned around and ran upstairs, looking terrified.

Making a mental note to ask about it later, Hiccup placed his ear against the keyhole.

"Björn," Aunt SkaÐi's voice was quivering, " _look at the address_ …how could they possibly know where he sleeps? You don't think they're watching the house, do you?"

"Watching—spying—Odin forbid, they might be following us," Uncle Björn muttered wildly. "Why, I wouldn't be surprised if they were watching us right now."

"But what should we do, Björn? Should we write back? Tell them we don't want—"

"No," he said finally. "No, we'll ignore them. If they don't get an answer…they might give up."

"But when Valka—I-I mean, when my _sister_ got her letter, our parents thought it was joke. They didn’t answer either," SkaÐi said, her tone worried, "The letters just kept coming."

"I don't care! I'm not having one in my house, SkaÐi! Didn't we swear when we took him in that we'd stamp out that dangerous nonsense before it was too late?"

"Y-yes, but—"

"But nothing, SkaÐi my dear! Your sister’s freakishness will not leave another mark on this family! I simply won’t have it!"

Aunt SkaÐi didn’t answer.

Hiccup backed away from the keyhole, feeling more confused than ever before. New questions were buzzing around in his head.  _What_  was dangerous? _Who_ were these people that had sent him the letter?

And what on Midgard did his _mother_ have to do with?

* * *

Later that evening, Hiccup was in his cupboard, reading his library book. Or at least, he was trying to; all of his thoughts were making it hard to concentrate. Then something strange happened; Uncle Björn visited him in his cupboard.

Hiccup placed the book he was reading down, looked up at his uncle, and asked, "Where's my letter? Who's writing to me?"

"No one’s writing to you. The letter was addressed to you by mistake. I burnt it," Uncle Björn answered shortly.

Hiccup knew this was a lie; after all, it had both his full name, and his cupboard on it, things he’d never told anyone. But he decided not to mention this.

"Fine, then why  _are_  you here?" Hiccup asked.

Uncle Björn forced his face into a smile. It looked quite painful. "I, uh…it's just that me and your aunt thought that…you're really getting too big for this cupboard…And with that blasted lizard refusing to leave…we thought that it might be nice if you moved into Balder's second bedroom."

Hiccup decided to push his luck a bit. "Would this have anything to do with the letter knowing that I sleep in the cupboard?"

"Of course not!" his uncle answered forcefully. "And what have we told you about asking questions?! Now then, I want you to take this stuff upstairs this instant. Go on!"

The Dalvor house had four bedrooms: one for Uncle Björn and Aunt SkaÐi, one for visitors (usually Uncle Björn's sister, Olga), one where Balder slept, and one where Balder kept all of the toys and things that wouldn't fit into his first bedroom.

It only took one trip for Hiccup and Blood-Spatter to bring everything he owned upstairs. He sat down on the unmade bed and looked around.

Unsurprisingly, nearly everything was broken in one way or another, except for the books on the shelves, which looked as if they hadn’t been touched in over twenty years.

Downstairs he heard Balder bawling to his mother: "I don't  _want_  him in there…I  _need_  that room…Mummy, make him get out—"

Hiccup rolled his eyes and went to the window. He couldn't really complain; he had his own space, and if he fixed some of this junk, it could be his.

Deep down, he knew why they put him here, and that night he prayed to whatever gods would care to listen that this wouldn't be the last time he was sent a letter.

* * *

Balder was in shock. He’d screamed, whacked his father with his Smelting stick repeatedly, been sick on purpose, and kicked his mother, but he still didn’t have his room back. Though his thoughts were still on the letter, Hiccup couldn’t help grinning at his cousin’s newfound misfortune.

The mail arrived. Uncle Björn, for once trying to be nice to Hiccup, made Balder go and get it. They heard him banging things with his Smelting stick all the way down the hall. Then he shouted, "There's six letters!  _Mr H. Horrendous Haddock III, The smallest bedroom, 4 Privet Drive—"_

Within the span of a heartbeat Hiccup, Balder and Uncle Björn began to fight over the letters for several minutes. However, a rather scratched up Uncle Björn became the victor, and sent both Hiccup and Balder to their rooms.

* * *

Hiccup came down in the early morning hours, hoping to get his letter, but Uncle Björn had beaten him there. He was boarding up the letter box house preventing any letters to get past the door.

"No letters are getting into this house," he said proudly, his voice muffled by the nails clenched between his teeth.

"I don't know, dear, these people are a stubborn lot," Aunt SkaÐi whispered nervously, pulling her robe tighter around herself. "They won't give up so easily, especially not for him."

"Oh, but these people's minds work in strange ways, SkaÐi, they aren't like you and me. If they can’t deliver the letters, they’ll just give up."

But the letters kept coming, in increasingly unusual ways. Whoever was sending the letters to Hiccup was very creative indeed. When the confused milkman came around and gave Aunt SkaÐi her dozen eggs through the living-room window, she found twelve letters hidden inside them.

Hiccup and Balder were sitting at the table, watching as Uncle Björn made furious telephone calls to the post office and the dairy, and Aunt SkaÐi shredded the letters in her food mixer.

"Who on Midgard wants to talk to _you_ this badly?" Balder asked him in amazed jealousy.

"I have no idea," Hiccup admitted, chuckling as he scratched under Blood-Spatter's chin. "But I am certainly enjoying this."

* * *

The next day, Uncle Björn looked exhausted, and rather ill, but he was happy.

"Finally, Sunday," he told them cheerfully, as he spread marmalade on his newspapers, "in my opinion, best day of the week. Why is that, Balder?"

Balder, who was busy playing one of his new violent video games, merely grunted in response.

Hiccup answered instead. "It's because there's no post on Sundays."

"Right you are, Hiccup," Uncle Björn said, "no post on Sundays, ha!"

As he rattled on about no post on Sundays, Hiccup sat down by the window, where Blood-Spatter was sniffing at the sill.

"What’s the matter, Blood-Spatter?" He muttered, pulling the draperies aside and peering out into the yard.

The sight that greeted him made his eyes widen in shock.

Outside, perched around the front garden, were hundreds of dragons. They all looked similar to Blood-Spatter and the one Hiccup had met last month, but came in a variety of colors. As one, the dragons glanced at him and bellowed,  _"INCOMING!"_

Blood-Spatter tensed.  _"Hiccup, DUCK!"_

"No, sir, no blasted letter—"

Uncle Björn was interrupted by a flying letter, which caught him sharply on the nose. Next moment, thousands of letters zoomed after it like bullets. The Dalvors and Blood-Spatter ducked for cover, but Hiccup leapt into the air, desperately trying to grab one.

"Out, OUT!" Uncle Björn yelled. He snagged Hiccup by the waist and threw him into the hallway. Blood-Spatter went flying after him, and when Aunt SkaÐi and Balder had run out as well, Uncle Björn slammed the door shut. At that moment the wooden plank blocking the letter box snapped, and hundreds of letters bust through.

"That's it! I’ll have no more of this madness!" Uncle Björn yelled, as he attempted to restrain a desperately struggling Hiccup. "We’re going far away from here, where these people can't find us!"

"Daddy's gone mad, hasn't he?!" Balder whimpered to his mother.

Aunt SkaÐi just stared forward, a tired expression on her bony face.

* * *

Ten minutes later, they were all sitting in the car, speeding towards the highway. Balder was sniffling in the back seat; his father had slapped him when he tried to take too much of his stuff with them. All Hiccup had taken with him was Blood-Spatter and, in a moment of dazed confusion, the small dagger he had once found buried in the front yard. He didn't know why, but he had felt the need to protect himself.

For the next two days they drove and drove. No one dared to ask where they were going. Even Uncle Björn didn’t seem to know; every now and then he would drive in the opposite direction for a few miles.

"Shake 'em off…Shake 'em off…" he kept muttering.

They never stopped to eat or drink anything. Balder was in tears; he'd never had such a bad time in his entire life. Hiccup was indifferent about it himself, but felt the urge to smack his cousin upside the head increase with every passing hour.

Finally, they had reached a large, rocky mountain out at sea, in a middle of a raging storm. At the top of said mountain lay the most miserable little shack Hiccup had ever laid eyes on. It made his cupboard look like a castle. Uncle Björn had clearly chosen this place because there was no way that anyone could send the letters. Hiccup had to agree, though the thought didn't bring him any joy.

On the way, Uncle Björn had stopped at a small, rundown store. He came out with some rations (a large water bottle and a bag of crisps for everyone) and a long, thin package. No one asked what he bought in his state of mind.

Once they got there, everyone ate and went to bed. The sleeping arrangements weren't surprising in the least. Uncle Björn and Aunt SkaÐi slept on the lumpy bed on the first floor. Balder slept on the moth-eaten sofa, which his mother had made as comfortable as she could with some blankets that she had found in a closet. And Hiccup was left to curl up with Blood-Spatter on the softest, driest bit of floor he could find.

Balder snored away, despite the raging storm outside, but Hiccup couldn’t sleep. He sat beside the empty fireplace, using his dagger to carve a large birthday cake with eleven candles in the dust. When he was finished, he glanced at Balder's digital watch, which flashed to show that it was midnight.

Hiccup smiled faintly. It was now his eleventh birthday.

Hiccup didn't like his birthday. The Dalvors usually made a point to ignore it, and when they didn’t they gave him a "consolation gift", which in reality was just some useless thing they wanted to get rid of. The only good thing was that Blood-Spatter would go hunting, and Hiccup could count on a full stomach. Helheim, he didn’t even have _that_ today. Still, it wasn't every day that you turned eleven.

He looked back at the dust cake. Blood-Spatter nuzzled his shoulder and crooned,  _"Make a wish, Hiccup."_

Taking a deep breath, Hiccup gently blew on the dust cake, blowing the dust away.

_Bang!_

Not even a second later, there was a loud banging at the door. The impact was so strong, it shook the entire shack. Both Hiccup and Balder bolted upright.

"Where’s the canon?" Balder asked, rubbing at his eyes.

They heard another bang behind at the door. It sounded more like a clap of thunder than a canon. Was Thor himself at the door?

Whatever the case, one thing was clear; this person wanted to come inside, and they wanted in _now_.

* * *

**Well don't just sit there boys, open the door!**

**:P**

**No school on Tuesday! Count on an update then!**


	4. The Master Forger

**Hello everyone. Sorry this took all day, but the election has had me unfocused.**

**But I'm still updating on Tuesday, just like I promised, so...yeah. At least I've got a four day weekend coming up...**

* * *

_Chapter Four: The Master Forger_

* * *

Uncle Björn and Aunt SkaÐi came flying down the stairs as a third bang shook the shack. Hiccup saw that Uncle Björn had a rifle clutched in his hands. Now he knew what had been inside the long, thin package.

"Who's there?" Uncle Björn demanded. "I warn you…I'm armed!"

There was a pause; it hung over the Dalvors like a heavy woolen blanket.

_BOOM._

The door was then hit with such a force that it was knocked clean off its hinges. It landed on the floor with a resounding  _thud_.

A giant of a man stood in the doorway. He had a pegged leg instead of a right one; his left hand was missing, with an icy hook in its place, and he had a metal tooth replacing his missing one. He had blond, rope-like hair and a matching moustache, the ends of which were burnt. His icy blue eyes peered down at the broken door.

"Heh, my bad," the giant grunted, before bending down to pick up the door. He fitted it back into its frame with ease.

"I demand that you leave at once, sir," Uncle Björn spluttered. He pointed the rife at the stranger, though Hiccup had a feeling that it wouldn’t do much. "You are breaking and entering!"

The giant was clearly unimpressed. He walked up to Uncle Björn with a crazy look in his eyes. "Dry up, Dalvor, yeh great prune," he growled, bending the rife into a funny knot.

Uncle Björn made a strange rasping noise, kind of like a mouse being trodden on.

The giant then strode over to the sofa, where Balder sat frozen with fear.

"Move over lad," the stranger barked, "I’ve just had a long journey."

Balder jumped and ran to hide behind his mother, who herself trembled behind Uncle Björn.

The giant looked at Hiccup. "Ah, there yeh are Hiccup," he said, smiling at him. "Last time I saw yeh, lad, you were just a wee baby. Could’ve fit yeh in meh good hand! And I've got to say, yeh look so much like yer mother. Yeh've got yer dad's eyes, though, just like she said yeh would."

"Wait," Hiccup said. He felt as though an electric shock had just run through him. "Y-you knew my parents?"

"Knew them?! Stoick was one of meh best friends, and Valka was the kindest person I ever had the honor of meeting," the giant answered. "We all went to school together."

His attention turned to Blood-Spatter. "Blood-Spatter, there yeh are!"

 _"Gobber!"_ the dragon shrieked, flying over to the giant. He rumbled happily as the man scratched under his chin. This was the dragon's sweet spot, which Hiccup had thought only he knew about.

Hiccup was overjoyed. Finally, he could find out the truth about his parents and who he was! "Hands down, this is the best birthday present ever," he muttered.

"Oh, that reminds me," the giant said. He began to fish around his fur vest. "I baked yeh a little something. ‘Fraid Grump might have squished it a little while I was readjusting his saddle, but I reckon it'll taste the same."

He handed Hiccup a squashed wooden box. Hiccup, not sure what else to say, thanked him and opened it. Inside was a large, sticky chocolate cake with  _Happy 11th Birthday, Hiccup_  written in green icing.

"I don't mean to be rude, but…who are you?" he asked the giant, placing his cake down. He felt a heavy weight on his head, which he knew was Blood-Spatter.

The giant chuckled. "Right, almost forgot that yeh didn’t know. The name’s Gobber the Belch, Master of the Forge at the Berk Dragon Academy."

He held out an enormous hand and shook Hiccup's entire arm. He took in Hiccup's smaller stature with a frown.

"Poor Valka would have had a heart attack if she could see yeh, lad; yer so thin…all these years, I had a feeling that the Dalvors weren't treating yeh right…"

 _"They haven't! And I could only hunt for him so often!"_ Blood-Spatter added, though Gobber didn't seem to be able to understand him.

Uncle Björn seemed to take great offense at Gobber's comment. "Oi! We've given him far more than he deserves!"

Gobber shot him a dark look. "I'd hate to see what  _you_ think he deserves, Dalvor. Mark my words, if Stoick could see how yeh've treated his boy, he would have killed the lot of yeh with his bare hands. Not to mention what  _Valka_ would do…"

Judging solely by their horrified expressions, Hiccup could tell that his aunt and uncle believed that statement.

"So, Hiccup," Gobber said, turning his attention back to Hiccup. "It would appear that yeh haven't been getting yer letters."

Hiccup pointed at Uncle Björn. "He's been keeping them from me; I wasn't able to finish reading the one I had. Sir…Why am I being sent letters? What  _is_ Berk?"

"I should have known that they didn't tell yeh," Gobber sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "By Odin, this is going to be a lot harder than I thought. Well, here goes nothing…Hiccup, yer a Viking."

Silence rang through the air like a gunshot.

"I-I'm a what?" Hiccup finally asked.

"Yer a Viking. And a thumping good one, I bet, once we've got yeh trained up."

 _"I second the notion!"_ Blood-Spatter roared, a small spark escaping his mouth. The ember fell onto Hiccup's shoulder, burning a hole through his shirt. Hiccup didn't even pay it any attention.

"W-what do you mean?" he spluttered.

"Well, when I use the term 'Viking', it means a warrior that can use magic," Gobber answered, as if it was all very natural. "Of course, if yeh were a girl, we'd use the word Valkyrie."

"I can use…what?" Hiccup shook his head. "No…y-you must have made a mistake. I'm just a normal kid…Err, a normal kid with a dragon. I can't use magic."

Blood-Spatter snorted.  _"Seriously, Hiccup? Even **you**  should know that's ridiculous."_

Gobber seemed amused by his reaction. "Can't use magic, eh? Well then, riddle me this; has anything weird every happened around yeh when yeh were angry or scared?"

Hiccup thought for a moment and remembered everything around him that made his aunt and uncle furious. When Balder had pushed him into the fireplace, he was unaffected. When his uncle tried to harm him, Hiccup burnt both him and the floor. And then there was his ability to speak to dragons…

Hiccup looked back at Gobber and offered him a small smile.

"Aye, I told yeh lad, but if yeh still don't believe me, then maybe yeh’ll believe this," Gobber said, pulling out a letter from his back pocket and returning the smile. "I think it's time yeh leaned the whole truth, don't yeh?"

Nodding eagerly, Hiccup took the letter and saw it was addressed to  _Mr, H_.  _Horrendous Haddock III, The Floor, Hut-on-the-rock, The Sea_. Choosing not to question how they had known he was sleeping on the floor for the night, he ripped it open and began to read where he had left off;

_Dear Mr Haddock,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at the Berk Dragon Academy for Vikings and Valkyries. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on September 1st. We await your Terrible Terror by no later than July 31st._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Phlegma the Fierce_

_Deputy headmistress_

Hiccup folded the letter back up. He finally had the answers to most of his questions, but they had been replaced quickly with new ones. After a while he stuttered, "I-I need some paper and a pen."

"Odin's beard, that reminds me," Gobber exclaimed. Out of nowhere, a disgruntled blueish green dragon popped up on Gobber's shoulder.

 _"Took you long enough,"_  the dragon grumbled.

Gobber began to write on a bit of parchment and attached it to the Terrible Terror's leg. He walked over to the window, opened it, and threw the Terrible Terror into the storm. Then he sat back down on the sofa, as though he’d just gotten off of the phone.

"Now then, on to yer parents," he began, but Uncle Björn stalked up to him, a look of fury in his tiny eyes.

"He's not going," he hissed, spit flying through the air. "He's going to Stonewall High, and he'll be grateful for it. I've read those letters and he needs all sorts of rubbish…spell books, weapons, some kind of crystal—"

Gobber snorted. "Oh, I'd love to see yeh, a great Muggle, try and stop him."

"Err, Gobber?" Hiccup asked. "What's a muggle?"

"It's what we call those of us humans that can't use magic," Gobber told him.

"Enough! We swore when we took him in that we'd put a stop to all this dangerous rubbish!" Uncle Björn snarled.

Ooh,  _big_ mistake in admitting that.

"You knew?!" Hiccup yelled, his own anger grabbing hold. "All this time, you knew that I could use magic, and you never told me?!"

"Of course we knew!" Aunt SkaÐi screeched. "How could you not be, my perfect little sister being who she was? Our mother and father were so proud the day she got her letter. It was all Valka this and Valka that, they were  _elated_  to have a Valkyrie in the family! I seemed to be the only one that saw her for what she truly was…a  _freak_."

She drew in a deep breath and went ranting on. It was clear to Hiccup that she had wanted to say all this for years.

"Then she met that Haddock, nasty, horrible boy he was, and before long they had you. She wasn’t even twenty years old! And of course, I knew the moment I heard the news you'd be just the same, just as strange, just as—as—abnormal. Then, if you please, she went and got herself blown up, and we got landed with you."

"Blown up?!" Hiccup quite literally boiled in rage. "You told me my parents died in a car crash!"

"DIED IN A CAR CRASH?!" Gobber roared. He jumped to his feet with such a fury that the Dalvors nearly scuttled back to their corner.

"We had to tell him something," his aunt managed.

 "A car crash kill Stoick the Vast and Valka the Gentle?! It's an outrage! It's a scandal!"  

Hiccup was too angry to question the titles. He was spun around by his uncle, who himself was trembling with rage.

"Now you listen here, boy," Björn snarled. "I accept there's something strange about you, probably nothing a good beating wouldn't have cured…and as for your parents, well, they were weirdos, no denying it, and in my opinion the world's better off without them…asked for all they got, getting mixed up with these Viking types…just what I expected, always knew they'd come to a sticky end, especially your father—"

Gobber started forward, and Blood-Spatter snarled a few choice curse words, but Hiccup snapped first; he let out a roar akin to a battle cry and pushed his uncle into the wall. The impact left a large dent behind. Everyone caught sight of his face and gasped.

Hiccup's anger mingled with confusion. "What is it?" he asked, a little too loudly.

Gobber's icy hook became paddle-like, and he held it in front of Hiccup's face, where it served as a substitute mirror.

Hiccup nearly jumped backwards in shock. His eyes…they had  _changed_. The white parts had disappeared, replaced by the emerald green of his irises, and his pupils had thinned into dagger-like slits. They were like Blood-Spatter's, only green, and they blazed with a potent anger.

The strangely draconic eyes lingered for only a moment, before they slowly shifted back to normal. Hiccup supposed it was because he was no longer angry.

"Whoa…OK, that was weird," he whispered, moving to sit on the couch.

Gobber took a deep breath, and turned to Uncle Björn. "This boy has had his name down for Berk since the day he was born. He's off to the finest school for Vikings and Valkyries in the world. Seven years there and he won't know himself. He'll be with youngsters of his own sort for a change, appreciated for his talents, and he'll be under one of the greatest Headmaster the Berk Dragon Academy has ever had, Alvis the Noble."

Hiccup's confusion withered with each word, replaced by fascination. Berk didn't sound so bad…

"I AM NOT PAYING FOR SOME CRACKPOT OLD FOOL TO TEACH HIM MAGIC TRICKS!" Uncle Björn bellowed.

But he had pushed Gobber too far this time. Gobber's icy hook shifted into a mace, and he glared at the Dalvors once more.

"Yeh really need to lean to keep that big mouth of yers closed, Dalvor," Gobber breathed, looking as if he was going to explode. "Because yeh should never… _ever_ …INSULT ALVIS THE NOBLE IN FRONT OF ME!"

He glanced over at Balder, who was stuffing fistfuls of Hiccup's cake into his mouth as though he hadn’t eaten in months. The icy mace began to glow, and a flash of silver light hit his fat bottom. Hiccup noticed a curly pig's tail popping out of Balder's pajama bottoms.

In an instant all three Dalvors began screaming in terror. Balder was clutching his bottom and ran into another room with his mother and father following him. Uncle Björn slammed the door behind them.

Gobber grinned at Hiccup and Blood-Spatter, who were laughing so hard their sides hurt.

"That, uh, didn't go the way I wanted it to. I was trying to turn him into a pig, but I guess he was so much like one there wasn't much left," he admitted sheepishly. "I suppose it's for the best, though. I would have gotten in a whole other realm of trouble otherwise."

"Oh? Why is that?" Hiccup asked when he finally calmed down.

" _Well_ , I was kind of expelled from Berk in meh third year, so I'm not supposed to use magic. They smashed meh crystal eye and everything. But Alvis managed to let me stay on as apprentice for the former Forge Master of Berk. A great man, Alvis is. He and your father stuck up for me, but it only helped so much. So if yeh don't mind, I would be grateful if yeh didn't mention this to anyone."

Hiccup pretended to think about it. "Sure, but only if you promise to tell me more about my parents."

"Deal," Gobber said, chuckling. He pulled out a pocket watch from his fur vest and glanced at it.

"Oh, will yeh look at that? We're ten minutes behind schedule. Best be off, then," Gobber remarked, putting his pocket watch away.

He walked over to the door and gave it a small tap with his icy mace. It fell back to the floor with a little  _thump_.

"Unless yeh want to stay here, of course," Gobber joked and walked outside.

"No sir," Hiccup answered. He grabbed Blood-Spatter and made sure he still had his dagger on him before he ran to catch up with the giant.

The storm was raging worse than ever, and Hiccup had to wonder how Gobber had gotten here in the first place. He soon found his answer, because he saw Gobber climbing onto the back of a sleeping dragon.

"Hiccup, meet my Hotburple, Grump," Gobber stated cheerfully.

"Grump" looked like a large lump of brown scales. His wings were smallest parts of his body, and his tail was like Gobber's mace.

"Wake up Grump, you fat salamander," Gobber barked, kicking the dragon with his pegged leg. "Come on, young Hiccup, hop aboard."

Hiccup clambered on without hesitation, and they were off.

* * *

***collapses***

**(Something I apparently forgot to mention: Everyone who bookmarks this story, or leaves a comment or kudos, gets a shout-out at the end of the story. Yes, that includes guests)**


	5. Diagon Alley

**Happy Thanksgiving! Sorry this took so long!**

* * *

_Chapter Five: Diagon Alley_

* * *

Flying was everything Hiccup had dreamed of. The wind blasting in his face made him feel more alert than ever before. For the first time in his entire life, he felt completely free.

"So how come people don't know about magic and dragons?" Hiccup yelled over the wind. He had always worried about that with Blood-Spatter, but most of the time people were none the wiser.

"Dragons can look like birds or lizards to those who don't believe in them. As for magic…Well, the Dragon Ministry takes care of that," Gobber called.

"There's a Dragon Ministry?"

Gobber nodded. "Naturally they wanted Alvis for Chief, but he'd never leave Berk, so old Fudge the Mighty got the job." He snorted. "More like Fudge the _Bungler_ , if yeh ask me. Every morning he pelts Alvis with hordes of Terrible Terrors, practically begging fer advice."

Hiccup nodded slowly. "Um, who set it up? And who founded Berk, for the matter?"

"Yer ancestor, actually," Gobber said. "Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the first, better known as Hiccup the Dragon Conqueror. Yeh see, after the Vikings conquered England, we were at war with the native dragons fer a long time. However, yer ancestor discovered that dragons could be tamed and trained, but only by the right type of person. The Dragon Ministry, as well as the Berk Dragon Academy, was founded upon his principles."

Hiccup immediately felt pressured by those words. _He_ was the descendant of such an incredible man? The man who had founded the Berk dragon academy, as well as an entire government?

_Him?_

There had to be a mistake.

Gobber seemed to have noticed his discomfort, because he changed the subject. "We're almost there."

"Where _are_ we going, anyway?"

"We're going to London to get yer school stuff," Gobber answered.

Something horrible occurred to Hiccup. "But...but you heard my uncle; he's not going to pay for me to go and learn magic."

"Do yeh honestly think yer parents left yeh nothing, lad? Nah, the Haddocks were a rich and respected family; well-known even before yeh came along," Gobber assured him with a grin. "Anyways, a list of everything yeh need is in the letter."

Blood-Spatter pulled out the letter and gave it to Hiccup. He found another piece of paper that he hadn't noticed before and quickly read it over:

**_ Berk Dragon Academy of Vikings and Valkyries _ **

**Clothing**

_All students will require:_

  * _At least three sets of Viking or Valkyrie clothing_
  * _One horned metal helmet for day wear_
  * _One pair of protective gloves (dragon skin or similar)_
  * _One fur cape_



**Set books**

_First-year students should have a copy of each of the following:_

  * The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) _by Burnthair the Broad_
  * A History of Dragons _by Baggyeyes the Historian_
  * Magical Theory _by Warhead the Casting_
  * A beginners' Guide to Transfiguration _by Ermic the Switcher_
  * One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi _by Herbspore the Healing_
  * Magical Drafts and Potions _by Newt the Brewing_
  * The Book of Dragons by _Bork the Bold_
  * The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection _by Ivar the Boneless_



**Other Equipment**

_All students are required to have:_

  * _1 crystal eye_
  * _1 Weapon of choice_
  * _1 dagger, unless this is your weapon of choice_
  * _1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)_
  * _1 set of glass or crystal phials_
  * _1 telescope_
  * _1 set brass scales_



_Students may also bring a Terrible Terror_

**Parents are reminded that first-years are _not_ allowed to bring their own saddles. If your first-year owns a saddle, please have them leave it at home.**

"Wow. We can buy all this in London?" Hiccup asked.

"Certainly, if yeh know where to go," Gobber answered. "Ah! Here we are. The Dragon's Flame; it's a very famous pub."

As they landed, Hiccup surveyed his surroundings. There was a little clearing off the street, which none of the muggles seemed to notice. Two little buildings were in this clearing; a grubby looking pub, and some large stables. And in these stables, dozens of dragons were resting, likely waiting for their riders.

All of them looked even more unusual than the ones Hiccup had already seen. There were ones with two snake-like heads, ones with spiky tails, ones that looked like Grump only with smaller wings and smaller bodies with lumps all around its body and one's that seemed to like to set themselves on fire.

"Hideous Zipplebacks, Deadly Nadders, Gronkles, and Monstrous Nightmares," Gobber said, pointing at each in turn. After leaving Grump and a sulky Blood-Spatter with a poor stable boy, they went over to the little pub.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Gobber said suddenly, "Yer famous."

_Wait, WHAT?!_

Before Hiccup could say anything, Gobber opened the door to reveal a dark, shabby room.

There were a few old women sitting in a corner, drinking tankards of fermented ale. One of them was smoking a long pipe, and Hiccup watched as the smoke turned bright gold. A young man with a short but very bushy beard was playing some jaunty tune at the piano. A small man with massive horns on his helmet was having an energetic discussion with the old barman, who had no teeth and was almost completely bald. They stopped talking when they saw Gobber, and the grinning barman reached out to grab a humongous tankard, saying, "Ah, Gobber, my best customer! The usual, I presume?"

"I’d love to, Sven, but I'm on official Berk business today," Gobber said, patting Hiccup on the back. "I'm just helping young Hiccup here buy his school supplies."

Sven looked at Hiccup in awe. "Well Thor strike me dead—it's Hiccup Haddock!"

The man at the piano immediately stopped playing. Within seconds the entire pub went still and silent, and everyone was staring straight at Hiccup, who squirmed in discomfort.

"Um…Hello…" he greeted them uncertainly. He was beginning to wish he hadn't left Blood-Spatter behind.

For a moment no one said anything. Then a woman in the back squealed, and everyone came running towards him as though Hel herself was on their heels.

"Welcome back, Mr. Haddock, welcome back," the piano player exclaimed, shaking his hand vigorously.

The woman with the pipe shook his hand as well, bouncing up and down and surrounding him with golden smoke as she did so. "Crockpot the Hysterical, I can't _believe_ I'm meeting you at last. Sweet Freya, if my family only knew!"

Gobber tried to keep moving, but the people continuously stopped them so that they too could wring Hiccup's hand. Crockpot the Hysterical kept coming back for more. They soon bumped into a pale young man with a rather anxious-looking face. One of his eyes kept twitching, and his helmet was strangely deformed; it completely covered the back of his head. Even stranger, he appeared to have no hair.

"H-Hiccup H-Haddock, c-can't t-tell you h-how p-pleased I am to meet you," the man stuttered, grasping Hiccup's hand briefly before letting go as if he had been badly burned.

"Ah, hello, Jarl, I didn't see yeh there," Gobber said pleasantly, before looking down at Hiccup. "Hiccup, this is Jarl the Quivering, and he'll be teaching yeh Combat Arts at Berk."

A man called "the quivering" was going to teach him how to fight? Hiccup noted that the Combat Arts class wasn't going to be very helpful.

"I-it’s a f-f-fascinating s-subject," Jarl commented, as though he'd rather not think about it himself. "N-not that you’d n-need it, eh, H-H-Haddock?" He let out a nervous laugh. "You'll be g-getting all your equipment, I-I suppose? I've g-got to p-pick up a new b-book on D-Dark E-E-Elves," He seemed terror-stricken by the mere thought.

"Lovely. Well, we have to go, lots to do," Gobber cut in, at last managing to guide Hiccup away from the boisterous crowd.

"Goodbye," Hiccup called over his shoulder, trying not to look as though he was relieved to be leaving.

They exited the pub, walking out into a small, walled courtyard, where there was nothing but a dustbin and a couple of dying weeds.

"See Hiccup, yer famous! Even Jarl was trembling; heh, mind yeh, he's usually trembling," Gobber said.

"But _why_ am I famous?" Hiccup asked. "All those people back there, how do they know who I am?"

Gobber fidgeted a little. "I…I'm not sure I'm the right person to tell yeh that story, lad."

He turned away from Hiccup and faced the wall. "Three up…two across…Right, stand back then."

Gobber tapped the wall with his icy hook. The brick in the middle shuddered, and one by one, all of the bricks surrounding it began to move apart, like some kind of jigsaw puzzle. Soon they were facing an archway large enough even for Gobber.

"Welcome," Gobber stated proudly, "To Diagon Alley."

Hiccup took a tentative step though the archway and promptly wished he had eight more eyes. Ahead of them was a cobblestone street full of shops, which were full of books, cauldrons, and weapons of every kind. Terrible Terrors flew overhead, most with messages tied to their legs. People were walking around, entering shops or stopping to talk to each other.

They walked through Diagon Alley. Gobber was pointing everything out to him.

"That's where we'll get yer quills and ink," he said, pointing at a passing shop. Then they passed a book shop. "That's Flourish and Blotts, where we'll get yer set books."

They then passed a shop that looked like it was selling sports equipment for Vikings and Valkyries. In front of a window, several kids about Hiccup's age, though most of them were a lot taller and beefier, were gazing longingly at a saddle.

"The Nimbus Two Thousand," one of them marveled.

"It boosts the power _and_ speed of any dragon," another one added.

"It's the best saddle yet!" a third one piped up.

"I just wish _I_ could have one," a fourth one, the only female, grumbled to herself. Hiccup had only heard her because he was walking right past her.

"Uh, Gobber? What's this about saddles?" Hiccup asked, craning his neck to try and get a closer look at the girl.

"Oh, they enhance a dragon's abilities, and make it easier to ride them," Gobber explained. "But I wouldn't worry about it, because yeh don't even have a dragon of yer own yet."

"That implies that I would manage to train one," Hiccup muttered, giving up and facing forward again.

Gobber chuckled. "A descendant of Hiccup the Dragon Conqueror that’s unable to train a dragon? Now yer talking gibberish, lad."

They arrived at a snowy white building with burnished bronze doors. It easily towered over the other little shops.

"Gringotts, the Viking bank," Gobber remarked, smiling. "There's no safer place, not one, except perhaps Berk."

When they entered the building, Hiccup saw little men with white, red or black beards wearing armor. It was almost like they expected an attack. The creatures were sitting on high stools behind long counters, weighing coins on brass scales and examining precious stones through eyeglasses.

"Gobber, what are these things?" Hiccup asked quietly as they walked to main counter.

"Dwarfs," Gobber answered in a hushed voice. "They’re as clever as they come, but they’re not exactly the friendliest of beasts. Just stay beside me, and yeh should be fine."

They reached the main counter, where an ancient-looking dwarf was writing down on some equally old parchment with what looked like an eagle-feather quill.

Gobber coughed and the dwarf looked up.

"Mr. Hiccup Haddock would like to make a withdrawal," Gobber stated.

The dwarf placed his quill back in his ink well and looked at Hiccup with rather unfriendly black eyes.

"And does Mr. Hiccup Haddock have his key?" He asked.

Gobber pulled out a silver key from his trouser pocket, and handed it to the dwarf.

"That seems to be in order," the dwarf said, nodding as he handed it to Hiccup.

"Oh and there's one more thing as well," Gobber said importantly. He pulled out a letter from his other pocket and gave it to the dwarf. "Alvis the Noble gave me this. It's about You-Know-What in vault You-Know-Which."

The dwarf read the letter carefully.

"Very well," he said at last, handing it back to Gobber, "I will have someone take you down to both vaults, Haddock’s first, if you don’t mind."

"Not at all."

"Good. Griphook, come here!"

Griphook was a black-haired dwarf with a surly-looking face. Hiccup and Gobber followed him to some carts. Soon they were going at breakneck speed in a rattling cart towards the vaults.

Suffice to say, Hiccup enjoyed this ride far less than he did the one on Grump. Oh, he liked the speed just fine, but the tracks were too rickety, and it lacked the comforting heat.

"Vault six hundred and eighty seven," Griphook announced as the cart came to a screeching halt. He hopped out of the cart and looked at Gobber. "My lamp, if you don’t mind."

Gobber handed the lamp to the dwarf, and the two of them followed him to a vault door. Griphook stopped and looked at them again.

"Key, please."

Gobber took the lamp and Hiccup handed him the key. Griphook placed the key in a keyhole and turned it. They heard a lot of gears turning and finally the vault door opened.

Hiccup gasped. Inside the vault were mounds of gold, silver and bronze coins.

"All yers," Gobber told him, smiling.

All Hiccup’s…this was incredible. Yesterday he hadn’t had so much as a penny to his name, and now he had a small fortune, buried deep under London. The Dalvors couldn't have known about this, or they would have taken it from him in a heartbeat, Viking money or not.

Gobber helped Hiccup pile some of it into a bag.

"The gold ones are Galleons," he explained. "Seventeen silver Sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine to a bronze Knuts to a Sickle; it’s easy enough. Right, that should be enough for a couple of terms; they'll keep the rest safe fer yeh." He turned to Griphook. "And this time, can we go a little slower?"

Griphook grinned savagely. "One speed only, Sir."

They were going even deeper now, and gathering speed. The air became colder and colder as they hurtled around tight corners. Finally they stopped at a vault with no keyhole.

"Vault seven hundred and thirteen," Griphook announced.

"What's in there, Gobber?" Hiccup asked.

"I can't tell yeh, Hiccup. It's official business of the Berk dragon academy. Very secret," Gobber replied.

Griphook hopped off the cart and grabbed a pickaxe from it.

"Stand back," he said importantly. He raised the pickaxe and slammed it into the door.

"If anyone without a Gringotts pickaxe tried that, they'd be sucked through the door and trapped in there," Griphook commented.

"Um, assuming that no one comes to withdraw, how often do you check to see if anyone's inside?" Hiccup asked.

"Oh, about once every ten years," Griphook answered with a rather nasty grin.

When the door opened, Hiccup expected to see fabulous jewels or mountains of gold Galleons, and he leaned forward in spite of himself. He was surprised to see a grubby little package wrapped up in brown paper lying on the floor. Gobber picked it up and tucked it in his fur vest.

"Best not mention this to anyone, Hiccup," Gobber told him.

Hiccup nodded, even though he was bursting with questions, and they returned to the surface.

* * *

One wild cart-ride later, they were blinking in the sunlight and walking towards the shops. Hiccup didn't know where to run first; he had more money that maybe even _Balder_ had ever had.

"Might as well get yeh some proper Viking clothing first," Gobber mused.

"Won't Muggles find it weird that I'm wearing clothing that existed about a thousand years ago?" Hiccup asked.

"Oh, don't worry about that; yer Viking clothes will blend in just like dragons do. Besides, it's about time yeh had clothes that actually fit yeh." They headed towards a shop called _Madam Mallet's Viking and Valkyrie dress shop._ "Don't bother to get a cape; yeh can use yer dad's. Listen, Hiccup, would yeh mind if I slip off for a pick-me-up in the Dragon’s Flame? I don’t really like going at high speeds; it’s why I ride Grump."

Hiccup nodded and entered Madam Mallet's shop alone, feeling a bit nervous.

Madam Mallet was a squat, smiling Valkyrie, wearing in a bright purple dress.

"Berk, dear?" she asked, though she didn't wait for Hiccup to answer. Instead, she began to study him. "Hmm…I think a green tunic and brown pants will do; a bit of embroidery, nothing too fancy. Just stand next to that young man over there and I'll get you dressed up."

In the back of the shop, Hiccup saw a pale boy with ripping muscles and black hair standing on a stool. Madam Mallet had Hiccup stand on a stool next to him, then she slipped a light green tunic over his head, and began to pin it to the right length.

"You're going to Berk too?" The boy asked in astonishment.

"Um…Yes?" Hiccup answered, uncertain.

"You're _way_ too small to be a Viking," the boy noted, smirking.

Hiccup frowned. "What does my size have to do with it?"

"Well, it's just that a Viking is supposed to be strong and strike fear into the hearts of their enemies. At least, that's what my father says, and he's always right," the boy said in a smug tone. "But you're more like a talking fishbone."

Hiccup knew this type of bully well; this was a Viking version of Balder, only much less fat.

"Anyways, where are your parents?" the boy asked in a would-be casual tone.

"Dead," Hiccup said shortly. "I don't remember them."

"Oh, I’m sorry." He didn't sound sorry at all. "But they were _our_ kind, weren't they?"

"If you mean if they were a Viking and Valkyrie, then yes, they were."

The boy sighed in apparent relief. "Personally, I think they should only let those who come from proper families. I mean, they're only hurting themselves. They don't know what's out there, and they won't be able to compete with people like me."

Scratch that; he was _worse_ than Balder.

"Well, do you know what house you'll be in?" the boy asked.

"No," Hiccup answered.

"Well, no one _really_ knows until they get to Berk, but I know I'm going to be in the best house of them all; Slytherin. Every member of my family has been in Slytherin," the boy told him.

Hiccup frowned. "Um, how exactly is it ‘the best’?"

"Because I’m a Jorgenson, and the Jorgenson clan only takes the best," the boy boasted. "What clan are _you_ from, anyways?"

Before Hiccup could answer, however, Madam Mallet said, "That's you done, my dear."

Hiccup jumped off the footstool and looked in the mirror. He was wearing a long-sleeve, light-green tunic and a dark brown, furry vest that matched with his boots and trousers.

"Well, I guess I'll see you in Berk," the boy said.

"Not looking forward to it," Hiccup muttered.

He ran to meet up with Gobber, who was carrying an ice cream cone in his hand, but he could see Hiccup's troubled expression.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Well…"

After Hiccup had told him about the Jorgenson boy in the store, Gobber growled. "Yeah, that would be Spitelout the Stern's son. Terrible clan, the Jorgensons are. But don't worry about it, Hiccup. Yer mother said she was worried the day she found out that she was a Valkyrie, and she was one of the brightest in her year."

The thought made Hiccup feel a little better, and they continued to buy his school stuff. When they went to buy his books, Gobber almost had to _drag_ Hiccup away from some books about curses and counter-curses.

"Yer not old enough to learn those yet, much less use them," Gobber had told him.

They quickly got his cauldron, phials (crystal, because Gobber said they worked better) a collapsible telescope, and brass scales. At the weapons emporium, however, Hiccup spent a good hour looking for the right one. He tried axes, maces, bludgeons and bullhooks (Gobber got nervous with that one), but none of them seemed to work out. Finally he settled on a simple, gleaming sword.

"Just got yer crystal eye left," Gobber stated as they exited the shop. They didn't need to buy him a dagger; the one he had snagged, which was his mothers', happened to be in perfect condition. "Oh, and getting yer birthday present, of course."

Hiccup felt his whole face go red. "Y-you don't have to do that."

"Lad, it's yer eleventh birthday, and I'm about ten years behind schedule. Yer parents would kill me if they knew! I am getting yeh a gift whether yeh like it or not," Gobber stated firmly. "But we'll get yer crystal eye and some food first, OK?"

"OK," Hiccup muttered, embarrassed.

They walked up to a narrow and shabby shop, with golden letters over the door that read _Wermond the Eye-giver: Collector of Crystal Eyes since 845_.

The bell on the door jingled to announce their arrival. An old man with a long white beard came towards them on a rolling ladder.

"Ah, I was beginning to wonder when I'd see you, Mr. Haddock," he said. "You look so much like your mother; it feels like only yesterday that she and your father came here to buy their own crystal eyes."

"Out of morbid curiosity, what's a crystal eye?" Hiccup asked.

"It is a very powerful magic item. You see, when a dragon dies, all of its magic power enter its eyes, which then crystallizes. Vikings and Valkyries use those crystals to channel our powers," Wermond explained.

"If I remember correctly, your mother acquired the eye of a Stormcutter. Your father, on the other hand, favored that of a Thunderdrum." He spotted Gobber. "Ah, Gobber, I believe that you had the eye of a Boneknapper."

"It was, yes, sir," Gobber said, looking embarrassed.

"A very rare crystal eye, that one was. It's such a shame that they shattered it when they expelled you."

"I've still got the fragments."

"But you don't use them, do you?" Wermond asked sharply.

"Of course not, sir," Gobber answered, though Hiccup noticed that he had hidden his icy hook behind his back.

Wermond looked unconvinced, but he let it go. "Well then, young Hiccup; let us find your crystal eye. Which hand do you use?"

"Um, left," Hiccup said.

"A left-handed Viking? I see…" Wermond muttered as he went to the shelves. He picked up a bright yellow crystal. "The eye of a Deadly Nadder; try this. Go on then, give it a squeeze."

Hiccup did as he was told. In an instant, several of the shelves zoomed out of their holders and onto the floor. Hiccup jumped back at the sight and placed the crystal back on the counter.

Wermond looked at him, amused. "Apparently not," he said and walked to another shelve and gave Hiccup another crystal, this one was bright red. "Here it is; the eye of a Monstrous Nightmare."

Hiccup took it and gave it a squeeze. This time, a vase shattered. Like before, Hiccup placed the crystal on the counter.

"My, my, you certainly are a tricky customer," Wermond chuckled, walking to another shelve and looked at a very dusty box. He looked from Hiccup to the box.

"I wonder…" he whispered, as he handed gave Hiccup the crystal eye inside. This one was bright green, just like his eyes. "The eye of a Night Fury; it's the last one I have."

Hiccup squeezed, but this time he felt the flames gathering around the crystal eye. It began to glow bright gold.

"Well done, Hiccup!" Gobber cried.

Wermond merely stared at him and muttered, "Curious…very curious indeed..."

"Sorry," Hiccup said, "But what's curious?"

"I remember every crystal eye I've ever sold, Mr Haddock. You see, dragons have more than one eye. It is very curious that you should be destined for this crystal eye when its brother…why, its brother gave you that scar."

Hiccup glanced at the crystal eye and gulped. "A-and who owned that crystal eye?"

"No one dares to speak his true name; we simply call him the Dragon Lord," Wermond whispered, his face shining with frightful awe. "The crystal eye choses the Viking and it's not always clear why. But I think it is clear we can expect great things from you. After all, the Dragon Lord did great things… _terrible_ , yes…but _great_."

* * *

Half an hour later, Hiccup and Gobber were inside the Dragon's Flame, having some lunch.

"Are yeh alright there, Hiccup?" Gobber asked, having noticed that Hiccup had been staring at his food for the past ten minutes.

"Gobber, I need to know about what happened the night I got this scar," Hiccup said, pointing at his scar.

"Hiccup, I'm not the right person to tell yeh," Gobber said.

But Hiccup pressed on. "Gobber, all of my life, I've wanted to know about my parents, how I got this scar and where I come from. You have the answers, and I need them now. Who _was_ this Dragon Lord?"

"Well…I suppose I should tell yeh, before yeh hear it from someone else," Gobber said slowly. He placed his tankard down and took a deep breath. "Mind, I don't know much myself, but yeh deserve to know at least a little of the truth.

"Yeh see, Hiccup, not all Vikings and Valkyries are good. Some of them go bad, and this one went as bad yeh can go," Gobber explained. He then took another deep breath and continued. "And his real name was Drago Bludvist.

"He was so terrible that only a handful of people dare to speak his real name. Everyone was afraid of him, even his own followers! He went to school with yer dad and me, but he was a few years above us. Soon after he left Berk, he started to create an army full of people that believed in his cause, those who feared him, and all kinds of dark creatures to take over the world."

Hiccup noticed that Gobber was rubbing his prosthetic arm, but he was too intrigued by the story to ask.

"They were dark times, Hiccup. No one knew who to trust. Alvis the Noble, who was the one person that the Dragon Lord feared, created an army to fight him, and yer dad was the leader, but people were dying right and left. The Dragon Lord would kill anyone that stood in his way without mercy or regret. One night on Halloween night ten years ago, he came to yer house and killed yer parents. And here's the biggest mystery; he tried to kill you."

"Drago Bludvist tried to kill… _me_?!" Hiccup gasped.

Gobber nodded. "Yep, with tried being the key word. Somehow yeh survived, destroying the Dragon Lord's power with nothing but the scar on yer forehead to tell the tale. A scar like that can only be created with an attack powerful enough to kill a full-grown dragon."

"So…what happened to…the Dragon Lord?" Hiccup asked.

"That’s the thing, lad; no one knows fer sure. Some people say he died. Load of dragon dung. I was at yer house and I didn't see his body. An old…friend of mine once told me to never count someone dead until you see their body right in front of your eyes. I believe he's out there somewhere, too weak to carry on. But one thing is certain; something about yeh stopped him that night. That's why you're famous, that's why everyone knows your name. You're the Boy Who Lived."

Hiccup wasn't sure what to make of this, but Gobber looked at his pocket watch and said, "Look at the time! We’d better get yer gift before yeh go home."

"But what if the Dalvors try to stop me from going to Berk?" Hiccup asked nervously.

"Hm...Oh! I know! I'll get yeh a terrible terror of yer very own. That way yeh can send letters, and Blood-Spatter can have another dragon to growl at," Gobber exclaimed. "Come on, we have to hurry."

A few minutes later, Hiccup was on his way to get the gift to top off the weirdest birthday he'd ever had.

* * *

**Rest assured, Hiccup, there will be stranger.**


	6. Platform Nine and Three-Quarters

**This chapter was _supposed_ to be uploaded last night, but my internet connection decided to stop working before I could transfer it here. Sorry for the Delay.**

* * *

_Chapter Six: Platform Nine  and Three-Quarters_

* * *

Hiccup's last month with the Dalvors was the best in all of his memory.

Balder was now so afraid of him that whenever he entered the room, the big bully would immediately run out with his piggy tail in-between his legs. Aunt SkaÐi and Uncle Björn, meanwhile, tried to have as little contact with him as they possibly could. They didn’t shut him in his old cupboard, force him to do anything, or shout at him—Helheim, they didn’t even _speak_ to him. Any chair with Hiccup in it was treated as though it was empty, and any word he spoke was pointedly ignored. Hiccup had to admit, having so much power at his fingertips was incredible—almost threateningly so.

Hiccup spent much of his time in his room, which had had to be cleaned up without any magic. He had named his new Terrible Terror Sharpshot, since every one of his fire balls hit its mark. When he had first arrived home from Diagon Alley, his Uncle had been rendered speechless with horror by his new dragon, because it was the very same one from the zoo; the one who had bitten him. Neither of them had forgotten the event.

Sharpshot and Blood-Spatter got along quite well, much to Hiccup's relief. Every night the dragons would go hunting together, with Blood-Spatter bringing more fish back to Hiccup. Within a week the room stunk like raw fish, but none of the three minded the scent.

Hiccup read all of his school books with great interest; he learned all about the different kinds of dragons, where they lived and all of their unique abilities. He had also read about his more famous ancestors: Hiccup the Dragon Conqueror; his daughter, Valhallarama the Dependable; and her son, Hiccup the Useful, just to name a few.

On the last day of August, Hiccup thought he'd better speak to his aunt and uncle about a lift to King's Cross station next day. When he went downstairs, he saw his Uncle Björn reading a newspaper on his favorite chair and his Aunt SkaÐi spying on the neighbors through the window she was pretending to clean.

"Um, Uncle Björn, can I ask you something?"

Uncle Björn gave a grunt to show he was listening.

"Uh, I need to be at King's Cross tomorrow to…to go to Berk."

He winced, and so did Aunt SkaÐi, but Uncle Björn merely grunted again.

"Would it be all right if you gave me a lift? I’d do it myself, but—"

"Fine," Uncle Björn spoke at last. "Where's this school anyway?"

Hiccup couldn't help himself. "Why, do you want to visit?"

Uncle Björn glared daggers at him. "Watch it, boy," he said in a threatening voice. "Now  _answer_ me."

"I don't know," Hiccup admitted, pulling out the ticket that Gobber had given him when he had dropped him off. "All that's on the ticket is that the train leaves platform nine and three-quarters at elven o'clock."

His aunt and uncle stared at him.

"What Platform?"

"It’s platform nine and three-quarters."

"Don't you find that a bit odd?" Uncle Björn asked.

Hiccup snorted. _"Nothing_  surprises me at this point."

"Well, it's a good thing for you that we're going to London tomorrow as well, or I wouldn’t bother," Uncle Björn said slowly, picking up his newspaper again.

"Why are you going to London?"

"To take Balder to a private hospital; we have to get that ruddy tail removed before he goes to Smeltings," Uncle Björn growled, gripping his newspaper even tighter.

If Hiccup wasn't already busy, he would have loved to go with them. He _really_ wanted to see his Uncle Björn try to explain how the tail had gotten there in the first place.

* * *

The next morning, Hiccup found himself alone at King's Cross station. His uncle had just left him, laughing his head off and mentioning that they hadn't started building the platform yet.

Hiccup knew that he couldn't ask any of the guards, since they would either laugh at him or have him thrown out of the station. Gobber had forgotten to tell him how to get on the station, and now he only had ten minutes left.

At that moment, a group of people passed him, and he heard a few of the words they were saying.

"—packed with Muggles as always—"

"Did she say muggles?" Hiccup muttered.

 _"Yes, she did!"_ Blood-Spatter cried.

 _"Thank the gods!"_ Sharpshot added. Hiccup began to follow them.

The speaker was a plump woman wearing a greyish tunic with shoulder guards and a breast plate. She was talking to four boys and one girl, all of whom had golden blond hair. Three of them were pushing a trunk like Hiccup's and wearing clothing that matched his in style. The oldest boy even had a golden scaled Terrible Terror. The youngest boy, however, was wearing a normal black T-shirt and faded blue jeans.

"Now, what's the platform number?" the mother asked him.

"Nine and three-quarters!" the small boy piped. "Mama, can't I go…"

"We've been through this before, Egill darling, you're not old enough," the mother said gently. They soon reached towards platforms nine and ten. "Alright, Askeladden, you go first."

The eldest boy charged at platforms nine and ten. He was about to make contact when he disappeared. Hiccup rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn't seeing things.

Next the mother looked at the twin boys, who Hiccup couldn't quite tell apart.

"Double, you next," she said.

"He's not Double, _I_ am," one boy groaned.

"Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother," the other boy added with a scoff.

"Sorry, Trouble," their mother said.

Trouble then rolled forwards and looked at his mother one last time.

"Only joking, I am Double," he told her.

The twins charged at platforms nine and ten, disappearing before their mother could yell at them.

Hiccup had no other choice.

"Excuse me," Hiccup said, rolling his trolley towards the plump woman. "W-would you tell me h-how to get on the…"

"You want to know how to get on the platform?" The woman asked with a small chuckle. "Ah, not to worry lad, this is Astrid's first time as well."

Hiccup glanced at the girl and could feel his heart hammering against his chest.

She had sapphire blue eyes, a button nose and long blonde hair, which she had braided. She was wearing a steel-blue shirt, a skirt with spikes surrounding it, a belt with a pouch on her hip and skull emblazoned shoulder pads. She was also slightly taller than him, no surprise there.

 _"I smell a crush!"_ Blood-Spatter declared. Sharpshot nodded in agreement.

Hiccup struggled to withhold a blush. He had never really had a crush before. Sure, he’d _noticed_ other girls, but it never went further than "Wow, she’s pretty". Girls his age wanted nothing to do with him, and even if they did, he would never be able to get through a conversation with them. His horrid stutter alone made sure of that.

"Um…Hello…" Hiccup said nervously, cringing when she glared at him.

"Astrid, be nice," her mother chided. She looked back at Hiccup. "All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Best do a bit of run if you're nervous."

 _"Trust me, he is,"_ Blood-Spatter hissed.

"Thank you, ma'am," Hiccup said, pushing his trolley up to the barrier. He charged at the barrier and closed his eyes, ready for the crash.

But it never happened; instead he went straight through the barrier and appeared on a platform packed with people in Viking clothes. Many of the adults even had missing limbs. He then saw a huge steam engine with the words  _Berk Express_  and over his head was a station sign with the words  _Platform Nine and Three-Quarters_.

Hiccup pressed through the crowd until he found an empty compartment near the end of the train. He put Sharpshot's cage inside first and then attempted to shove and heave his trunk towards the train door.

"Would you like some help there?" An amused voice asked. Hiccup looked around and saw that one of the blond twins he'd followed was grinning at him.

"No, I clearly have this under control," Hiccup said, sarcasm dripping from his voice as he tried in vain to lift it again.

The twin chuckled. "Oi, Double! Get your lazy arse over here!"

With the help of the twins, Hiccup's trunk was at last tucked away in a corner of the compartment.

"Thanks," Hiccup panted, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

"What's that on your forehead?" one of the twins asked suddenly, pointing at him.

"By Odin," the other twin swore. "Are you—?"

"He is," the first twin said. "Aren't you?" he added to Hiccup.

"What?" Hiccup asked.

"Hiccup Haddock," the twins chorused.

"Oh, here we go again," Hiccup said, rolling his eyes. "Yes, I am."

Blood-Spatter snagged some of his hair and pulled it back to reveal the scar. Before the twins could say anything, a voice came floating in thought the train's open doors.

"Double, Trouble? Are you there?"

"Coming, mum!"

They gave him one last look before hopping off the train.

Hiccup sat next to the window in a way that let him see the blond-haired family talking without being spotted.

"Where's Askeladden?" Their mother asked.

"He's coming now," Astrid said.

The oldest boy came striding into sight. Hiccup noticed that his Viking clothing was in better shape than his siblings, and he had sliver badge on his chest with the letter P on it.

"I can't stay long, mother," he said. "I'm up front; the Prefects have got two compartments to themselves—"

"Oh, are you a Perfect, Askeladden?" one of the twins said in mock surprise. "You should have said something, we had no idea."

"Hang on, I think I remember him mentioning something about being that," the other twin said. "Once—"

"Or twice—"

"A minute—"

"All summer—"

Astrid laughed. It sounded like music to Hiccup.

"Oh, shut up," Askeladden snapped. He looked distinctly ruffled.

"How come Askeladden gets new clothes, anyway?" one of the twins asked.

"Because he's a  _Prefect_ ," their mother said fondly.

She kissed Askeladden on the cheek, and he left with a slightly reddened face. Then she turned to the twins.

"Now, you two—this year, you behave yourselves. If I get another letter saying that you've burnt down the Great Hall—"

"Hey, it was only a small fire!"

"And Everwild started it; she panicked when she saw the eel on our plates."

Hiccup shuddered. He didn't like eel; it tasted gross and made him sick.

Their mother sighed. "Just look after Astrid for me, alright?"

"Mum, I can look after myself," Astrid said, a hint of embarrassment in her voice.

"She definitely takes after mum," one of the twins said to his brother, who nodded in agreement.

Astrid punched his arm. She had a pretty impressive swing; Hiccup saw the twin stumble backwards a few steps and begin to rub his arm, muttering curses under his breath.

"Hey, mum, guess what guess who we just met on the train?" The other twin said.

Hiccup squirmed, feeling uneasy at this point.

"You know that scrawny looking kid who was near us in the station? Know who he is?"

"Who, Trouble?"

_"He’s Hiccup Haddock!"_

Hiccup saw the little boy jumping up and down with joy.

"Oh, mama, can't I go and meet him on the train, please…"

"You've already seen him, Egill, and the boy isn't something you goggle at in a zoo. Is he really, Trouble? How do you know?"

"We saw his scar. It's really there—shaped just like a bolt of lightning. You’d think Thor himself put it there."

"He didn't look very impressive to me," Astrid muttered.

"Are you kidding?!" Egill exclaimed in surprise. "He's the one that destroyed the Dragon Lord!"

"Yeah, and a couple of years ago you said you wished you had a scar like that," Trouble (or… was it Double?) pointed out. "Had a right crush on him, you did."

Astrid's face tinged bright pink. "T-that was a long time ago! I bet he's arrogant, probably likes to show off. And did you  _see_  the way he was looking at me?"

"I think he  _likes_  you," Egill giggled.

 _"Here, here!"_ Blood-Spatter added. Hiccup was pretty sure his face matched Astrid's right now.

"I wouldn't go out with him if I was on fire and he was the only person with a bucket of water," she huffed.

"Now that's enough, Astrid, you don't even know him," her mother scolded. "I thought he was very polite when he asked how to get on to the platform, the poor dear. Oh, I did wonder why he was on his own…"

"Yeah, and he didn't seem very comfortable when we brought it up. I don't think he likes being famous," one of the twins added.

A shrill whistle sounded.

"Hurry up!"

After kissing their mother goodbye and clambering on to the train, the siblings leaned out the window for her to wave them goodbye. Egill looked faintly annoyed.

"Don't worry, Egill, we'll send you lots of Terrible Terrors."

"We'll even send you something from school. How would you like an official Berk toilet seat?"

"Trouble Hofferson, I swear to Odin—"

"I'm only joking, mum, keep your helmet on!"

* * *

Half an hour later, Hiccup sat looking out of the window watching the county side slip past. Blood-Spatter had long since curled up on Hiccup's lap and gone to sleep. He stroked the dragon absentmindedly.

"Excuse me, is anyone sitting here?" A voice asked. "Everywhere else is full."

Hiccup turned to see a boy his age, with blackish-brown hair and light green eyes, standing at the door. He was wearing a sleeveless grey tunic with a furry white vest, brown trousers and dark green boots.

"No!" Hiccup said, a little too loudly. The boy smiled and sat down opposite to him.

"I’m Ragnar Wicket," the boy introduced himself.

"Hiccup Haddock," Hiccup said. He pointed at the snoozing terrible terror. "And this is Blood-Spatter."

"Are you really?" Ragnar asked, looking at him with great interest.

"Well  _this_  is never going to get tiring," Hiccup said sarcastically.

"No, no, it's just I've read about you in some extra books I bought."

"Wait, you mean you didn't know about me before?" Hiccup asked, now getting interested as well.

"Yeah, well my mother is Muggle, and I never knew my father," Ragnar explained.

"Glad I'm not the only one that's new to this stuff," Hiccup said, relief seeping through him.

"And I bet we won't be the only ones."

They spent the next half an hour talking about their Muggle families. Ragnar told him that his father had left his mother to raise him by herself when he was about two years old, and that any attempt she made at dating after that was a disaster (Ending up with an abuser, an alcoholic, and a meth head, respectively). Hiccup explained how the Dalvors treated him and how he found out he was Viking.

"Guess we've both had a rough life," Ragnar said.

"Yeah, no kidding," Hiccup agreed.

"So, do you know what house you'll be in?" Ragnar asked.

Hiccup shook his head.

"Well, I guess we'll find out when we get there, but if I end up in Slytherin I'm out of there faster than you can say Dragon Academy," Ragnar said, crossing his arms.

"Why's that?" Hiccup asked.

"That's the house the Dragon Lord and more than half of evil Vikings and Valkyries landed in," Ragnar explained.

"Ah."

A smiling, dimpled woman slid back their door. "Would either of you like anything off the trolley, dears?"

Ragnar shook his head, but Hiccup leapt to his feet. He was starving, he finally had money of his own, and he was more than ready to try a little of whatever strange treats she had.

And sweet Valhalla, what an assortment! She had Bertie Bott's Every-Flavor Beans, Dribble's Best Blowing Gum, Chocolate Fireworms, Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, Liquorice Axes and a number of other peculiar things Hiccup had never seen in his life but desperately wanted. In the end he paid the woman eleven silver Sickles and seven bronze Knuts.

Ragnar stared in amazement at the load he tipped on to an empty seat.

"Hungry, are you?"

"Starving;  _you_  try living with the Dalvors with a fierce, territorial dragon being the only thing to feed you," Hiccup answered.

"Point taken," Ragnar said, looking at assortment on the seat. "You mind if I have some? I uh, forgot to pack any food."

"Dig in."

Before they could, however, three boys entered. Hiccup recognized one of them from Madam Mallet's shop; only now he was wearing a helmet with ram horns on it, a black fur shirt with a sleeveless yellow tunic beneath, a metal-leather belt with some kind of crest on it, brown armbands, trousers and boots.

The other two were standing beside him wearing similar clothing, but they were bigger and, somehow, a lot more stupid looking than him.

"Which one of you is Hiccup Haddock?" the middle boy demanded.

Ragnar looked at Hiccup with a raised eyebrow.

"Are these friends of yours, Hiccup?" He asked dryly.

"Hardly," Hiccup answered.

The three boys looked at him in amazement.

"Wait,  _you're_  Hiccup Haddock?" the boy asked, before he began to laugh; the other two began to laugh as well.

"What about it?" Hiccup asked.

"You're a _runt_ ," the boy sneered.

"Who are you?" Ragnar asked, standing up.

"The name is Snotlout Jorgenson," The boy said, glaring at him. "This is Hjartán Golson and Falskur Morson. And who are you?"

"Ragnar Wicket."

"And I'm Astrid Hofferson," A familiar voice said.

Everyone spun around. It was Astrid, with a look on her face that would send anybody else running for the hills. Hiccup's heart pounded twice as hard.

"Well, aren't you a lovely looking thing," Snotlout said as he raised a hand to cup her cheek. Hiccup felt a wild flare of jealousy. "I've heard about your family from my father, but if you're wiser than the rest of your family we might be able to get together."

Before his hand could touch her cheek, Astrid snatched his arm, twisted it back, and punched him right in the gut, sending him toppling to the ground.

Hiccup and Ragnar both stared at her, Ragnar in surprise and Hiccup in awe.

"Remind me never to get on her bad side," Ragnar muttered.

"Duly noted," Hiccup breathed, hoping that his blush wasn't too noticeable.

Both Hjartán and Falskur stepped up, looking as if they were ready to fight, but Snotlout got up and stopped them.

"Sweet thing's blinded by her loyalties. Ah, she'll learn better soon enough," he chuckled. He then glared at Hiccup. "Here’s a word of advice, Haddock. You’ll find out that there are Viking clans out there that are much better than others. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort."

He blew a kiss at Astrid, who looked like she was about to be sick, and then left. His two lackeys followed him, muttering vague threats under their breath.

"I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, Snotlout!" Hiccup yelled after him.

Astrid shook her head. "Unbelievable—we haven't even reached Berk yet, and you're already causing trouble!"

" _They_ were the ones that caused trouble, not us," Ragnar pointed out.

She ignored him and turned to Hiccup with an unimpressed look.

"Are you _really_ Hiccup Haddock, or are you just one of Double and Trouble's jokes?" She asked.

Hiccup nodded, pulling back some of his hair to reveal the scar.

"You've met that jerk before?" She asked, jerking her head in Snotlout’s direction.

Hiccup explained their meeting in Diagon Alley.

"My dad told me about them," Astrid said darkly. "He said that while they aren’t exactly the smartest, they are one of the strongest Viking clans. They were some of the first to come running back to our side after the Dragon Lord died. Said they'd been controlled. My dad doesn't believe it. He said that Snotlout's father didn't need an excuse to go over to the Dragon Lord’s side."

She glanced at the pile of sweets on the chair and scoffed. "I see you haven't wasted any time throwing money about."

"I just don't want to miss anything," Hiccup said, looking at the floor. Her disapproval hurt more than any of his childhood bullies. "But I think you're lucky that you have four Viking brothers."

"Six," Astrid corrected, looking as though she’d rather not be having this discussion. "I'm the second youngest and the only girl in my family, so I have a lot to live up to. Hakon and Einar have already left, Hakon was Head Boy and Einar was Dragon Race Captain. Now Askeladden's a Prefect. Double and Trouble mess around a lot, but they still get decent marks, and everyone thinks they're funny."

"Trust me, I know what's it like to measure up to someone," Hiccup said. Hey, at least Astrid's family  _liked_ her.

She glared at him. "No you don't! I'm stuck wearing my mother's old Valkyrie clothes, I've got Hakon's old axe that once belonged to my Uncle Finn, Einar's old crystal eye, and Askeladden's old _rat_."

It was then that Hiccup noticed the fat black rat that was sleeping on her shoulder.

"My family is very poor, so they couldn't get me Terrible Terror the day they got Askeladden one. They gave me Scabbard instead."

Hiccup felt sorry for her, but as he was fairly certain she’d punch him in the face if he said that, he tried not to show it. Instead, he picked up a packet of chocolate Fireworms and held it out to her.

She glared at him again. "I don't need your pity, Haddock."

"It's just a thank you for scaring those guys off. You can have as much as you like," Hiccup said with a small smile. Astrid gave him a long, hard look before reaching out and taking the packet from him, being careful to avoid brushing her fingers against his.

"What are they anyway?" Ragnar asked. Hiccup had almost forgotten that he was in the compartment with them, and judging by the way she jumped, Astrid probably had too.

"Oh, it's just some enchanted chocolate made to look and act like a fireworm," Astrid explained as she opened the packet. "Besides, it's the card you really want. Each packet has a Famous Viking and Valkyrie card."

She opened it, and after eating the chocolate fireworm (which Hiccup ending up having to catch before it jumped out the slightly open window), she looked at the card. The card showed a picture of an old Viking with a missing hand and a long white bread.

"Alvis the Noble," Astrid groaned. "I've already got six of him."

"Ah, so _this_ is Alvis the Noble," Hiccup said, studying the card with great interest:

_Alvis the Noble, current Headmaster of the Berk Dragon Academy, is considered by many the greatest Viking of modern times. Alvis is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark Viking Grindelward the Terrible in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve use of dragon's blood and his work on alchemy with his partner, Flamel the Eternal. Alvis the Noble enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling._

He then turned it back over and saw, to his astonishment, that Alvis's face had disappeared.

"He's gone!" He gasped and showed it to Ragnar, who was equally astonished.

"Well, you can't expect him to hang around all day," Astrid said, looking amused.

"Muggle photos don't do that," Hiccup told her. "They just…stay there…So Ragnar and I aren't used to them just up and leaving."

"I'd be careful with those if I were you," Astrid advised Ragnar as he was opening a bag of Bertie Bott's Every-Flavor Beans.

"Why's that?" he asked, about to pop a light red one in his mouth.

"When they say every flavor, they  _mean_  every flavor. You get the ordinary ones like chocolate, peppermint and marmalade, but you can also get spinach, liver and tripe. Trouble swears he got a vomit flavored one once."

The moment that Ragnar bit on the bean, he spat it out.

"What flavor was it?" Hiccup asked.

"Something really spicy," Ragnar rasped, his eyes watering.

Astrid made a funny noise in the back of her throat. It was either a light cough, or a giggle; Hiccup couldn't be sure. She then got up and began to leave the compartment.

"You're going?" Hiccup asked, trying to hide his disappointment.

"As much as I've enjoyed your company," she said in a tone so sarcastic he was almost jealous. "I have to look for a Terrible Terror called Iggy; a boy named Fishlegs lost him, and he’s been crying about it for half an hour."

She dealt Hiccup one last death glare, but was it just him, or was it noticeably softer than her previous ones?

"Don't get in my way," she warned.

"I wouldn't dream of it, Milady!" Hiccup called after her, surprising himself with his brief moment of boldness.

Ragnar was grinning at him, a knowing look in his light green eyes.

"W-what are you looking at?"

* * *

Later that night, they arrived at the station, called Berksmeade Trains. They followed people off the train and onto the platform.

Hiccup then saw a lamp bobbing over the heads of the students and then he heard a familiar voice: "First-years! First-years over here! Alright there, Hiccup?"

Hiccup smiled up at Gobber. "I’ve never been better."

"Whoa," Ragnar gasped.

Gobber led them onto steep and narrow path. They soon came to the edge of a great black lake. In the middle of the lake was an island and on it was a large fortress with a mountain sticking out of the middle of it, there were many turrets and towers around the fortress as well.

"No more than four to a boat!" Gobber called pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Hiccup and Ragnar were followed into their boat by an irritable Astrid and Fishlegs, the boy who had lost his dragon.

Fishlegs was a blond boy with forest green eyes. He was just as big as Falskur, expect that he had skinny legs; it was a miracle that they held him up at all. He was dressed in a fur tunic, green trousers and fur boots. On top of his head he was wearing a small horned helmet. He looked just as nervous as Jarl the day Hiccup met him.

"Is everyone in?" Gobber shouted. He had a boat all to himself. "Right then, forward!"

And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great fortress overheard.

They soon reached a small harbor and the little boats docked at it.

"Oi, you there, is this dragon yours?"

"Iggy, you’re safe!" Fishlegs cried in delight.

They climbed onto the dock, and once Gobber was sure that everyone was here, he led them to a rickety wooden ramp. A minute later they reached a giant wooden door.

"Is everyone here? Yes? Good, cause there's no turning back now," Gobber said.

And he banged his icy mace on the door three times on the giant door ahead of them.

* * *

**Fun Fact: There was plenty of room on that train; Ragnar just happened across Hiccup sitting all by himself and figured he might need a friend.**

**The next chapter will be out quicker, I swear.**


	7. The Sorting Helmet of Valhallarama

***counts days on fingertips* Yes, I did keep the promise of a faster update...by one day.**

**Hey it's not my fault the internet got disconnected; blame the guys who broke the wire while installing the new fence.**

**That aside, I have an important announcement: I have an editor!** **Her screen-name is Narutofaninja2, and she's a friend of mine who I recently convinced to get an account. (Wasn't that hard—she was looking for a new website to put her stories on anyway) I have little doubt that she'll be able to keep me on a better updating schedule...I hope.**

***Ahem***

**Without further ado, here is the seventh chapter!**

* * *

_Chapter Seven: The Sorting Helmet of Valhallarama_

* * *

The door swung open at once, though as far as Hiccup could see no one had been there to open it. The group walked through it and followed Gobber to a staircase leading to two grand doors embedded in the mountain. Hiccup looked more closely at the mountain and realized that a fort had been carved into it.

At the tops of the stairs was a woman wearing armor around her chest. She gave the lot of them a look that made it clear that she was not someone to be crossed. Behind her stood a large, four winged dragon with woody brown scales and a cream underbelly with blue highlights. Its face had two long spines that branched off its nose and to the side, and it had a smashed face, kind of like an owl. Its tail was also fin-like.

"The first-years, Phlegma," Gobber said, smiling at her.

Phlegma gave him a stiff nod. "Thank you, Gobber. Cloudjumper and I will take them from here."

Gobber nodded, winked at Hiccup, and whistled an eerily familiar tune as he walked over to the doors ahead of them. They opened a bit, and Hiccup thought he heard people inside talking, but they were quickly closed when Gobber walked through them.

"Welcome to the Berk Dragon Academy of Vikings and Valkyries," Phlegma said. "In a few moments you will pass through these doors and join your classmates, but before you take your seats you will be sorted into your houses—Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin.

"Now, while you are here, your house will be like your family. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room. Your triumphs will earn your house points; any rule breaking and you will lose points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup—Cloudjumper, what are you doing?"

The dragon had made its way through the crowd of first years. It stopped before Hiccup—and began to nuzzle his side.

 _"Hello again, hatchling…"_ It growled.

"Uh, hello…OK, this is new…" Hiccup stammered, uncomfortably aware that everyone was staring at him in shock. Astrid looked enraged. Phlegma, however, was smiling a little.

"Aye, I was wondering when he'd do that," she chuckled.

"Uh…why is he so friendly to me?" Hiccup asked her, nervously patting the dragon on the head.

"Because Cloudjumper was your mother's dragon before he was mine," Phlegma explained. "He probably remembers you from when you were very young.

"When a dragon rider dies their dragons often fly off to find a new rider. Cloudjumper here came to me a little while after that fateful night in Val's Burrow. I lost my own dragon during the war, and when Cloudjumper found me something just…clicked."

Blood-Spatter flew over to her and perched on her shoulder. She took a deep breath, collecting herself, and placed a hand on Hiccup's shoulder. "Welcome to Berk, Hiccup. You'll do your parents proud, I know it."

Hiccup was amazed, but he somehow managed to speak. "Th-thank you, Professor."

"Phlegma will do, dear. I'm a family friend, after all," the smile melted off of her face as she turned to the other students. She cleared her throat and scowled again. "The Sorting Ceremony will take place soon in front of the whole school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting. Come along, Cloudjumper, you'll see Hiccup again soon. Blood-Spatter, I think you know where to go."

She and Cloudjumper entered the grand-looking doors in front of them. Blood-Spatter gave Hiccup an affectionate nudge, before flying off.

"How do you think they're going to sort us?" Hiccup asked Ragnar, who merely shrugged in response.

That didn't make Hiccup feel any better, but when he looked around many people looked just as terrified. Astrid Hofferson looked as if she was trying to remember all fight techniques she knew, which was probably a lot. Fishlegs seemed near faint. Snotlout Jorgenson, however, looked very confident. No doubt he was sure where he was going.

Moments later, or so it felt to Hiccup, the doors reopened a bit, and Phlegma reemerged.

"We're ready for you now," she said and she gestured for them to follow her.

The doors swung open the rest of the way, and the first years walked through. Hundreds of students were sitting at four long stables at the base of four great statues. Two of them were Vikings, the other two Valkyries, and each one of them was holding a different weapon.

"Hiccup the Dragon Conqueror's students," Ragnar muttered. "Gryffindor the Courageous…"

He pointed to the statue on the far left. It was of a lean Viking dressed in red, holding an extravagant sword in his left hand, the only one to do so.

"Hufflepuff the Loyal…"

The second statue was a plump Valkyrie dressed in yellow. She held a dull mace.

"Ravenclaw the Wise…"

The third statue was a tall and thin Valkyrie dressed in blue. In her hands was a curved dagger.

"And the last is Slytherin the Cunning. More like the heartless, if what I've read is true."

The last statue was of a buff Viking with a sly smile, and it was dressed in green. He was holding an axe, which was splattered with red. Hiccup sincerely hoped it wasn't blood.

Ahead of them they saw a long table where the teachers sat. Standing behind them were two statues. Unlike the founder's statutes, which were merely carved out of wood and dressed, these two were artfully painted. Hiccup looked at the first one closely. It was of a redheaded man with blue eyes, but Hiccup could have sworn that it looked a bit like him. The second one was of a skinny girl with shockingly vibrant red curls and emerald green eyes. Sitting lopsided on her head was a dented old helmet with intertwined horns. Both statues had smiles carved onto their faces.

Gasps filled the air; some of the first-years were looking up in amazement. Hiccup looked up and gasped himself, because above them, right where the ceiling was supposed to be, was the night sky.

"It's not _really_ the sky," Ragnar explained. "It's bewitched to look like it, I read about in _A History of Dragons_."

"Are you sure?" Hiccup asked; he found it hard to believe that the place didn't just open to the heavens.

"Well, I guess we'll find out when it rains, now won't we?"

Phlegma was leading them towards the front, where a four legged stool stood. Silent as could be, she plucked the helmet off of the girl statue's head.

"The sorting helmet of Valhallarama," she announced.

The helmet twitched. A mouth formed from its intertwined horns, and it began to sing;

_Now you may not think I'm pretty,_

_But don't judge on what you see,_

_I'll eat myself if you can find_

_A better helmet than me._

_You can keep your bowlers black,_

_your top hats sleek and tall,_

_for I'm Valhallarama's sorting helmet;_

_I can cap them all!_

_There's nothing hidden in your head_

_The Sorting Helmet can't see,_

_so try me on and I'll tell you_

_where you ought to be._

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_

_Where dwell the brave at heart,_

_His daring, nerve, and chivalry_

_set her Gryffindor apart;_

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

_Where they are just and loyal,_

_for patient Hufflepuff was always true_

_and never afraid of toil;_

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

_if you've a ready mind,_

_where those of wit and learning_

_can always find their kind;_

_Or, perhaps, in Slytherin,_

_where you’ll make your 'real' friends,_

_those cunning folks will use any means_

_to achieve their ends._

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

_And don't get in a flap!_

_You're in safe hands (although I have none)_

_for I am a Thinking Cap!_

The entire hall burst into cheers as the song finished.

"When I call your name, you'll come forward. I'll place the Sorting Helmet on your head and you'll be sorted into your houses," Phlegma said, holding the helmet in one hand and a scroll in the other.

"Snotlout Jorgenson!"

Snotlout proudly strutted forward, as though he owned the place…He was immediately scolded by Phlegma for wearing his helmet before the sorting. Both Hiccup and Ragnar smiled at this and tried to hold back their laughter. From behind him, Hiccup heard Astrid make that funny noise again. He now felt fairly certain that it was a giggle. It took all of his willpower to not react.

After taking his helmet off, Phlegma began to place the helmet on Snotlout's head, but it barely brushed against his hair before shouting in disdain, "SLYTHERIN!"

Snotlout gave Hiccup a smug grin, blew a kiss to Astrid, and went to join the Slytherin table. Perhaps it was just his imagination, but Hiccup noticed that almost all of the members of Slytherin house looked just as unpleasant as Snotlout was.

"If that helmet tries to put me in Slytherin, I swear to _Thor_ …" he heard Astrid grumble. He was with her on that one.

Snotlout's two lackeys, Hjartán and Falskur, soon joined him in Slytherin. A boy named "Strongfist Boltson" went to Hufflepuff. A girl called "Heather Valdaha" was welcomed at the Ravenclaw table. And then the names all started to blur a bit. By the time they had reached fifteen students, no one had gone to Gryffindor yet.

"Astrid Hofferson!"

Astrid strode up and sat on the stool. Phlegma placed the helmet on her head.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The Gryffindor table burst into applause as Astrid sat down beside her brothers, all of whom patted her on the back. Hiccup grinned. Astrid was a shining candidate for the house of the brave.

And then…

"Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the third!"

Oh come on; was his full name _really_ necessary?

It was like someone had pressed the mute button. Everyone went silent for a long moment.

Gulping, Hiccup step forward and went to sit on the stool. His legs felt like lead, and his stomach churned like the ravaging sea. He wasn't surprised that people began to whisper to one another. Even the teachers leaned forward a bit to get a better look at him. Phlegma gave him an encouraging sort of smile before placing the helmet on his head.

"Hmm," a small voice said in his ear. "Difficult, very difficult…Plenty of courage, I see. A _brilliant_ mind; Ravenclaw would have killed to have you. Quite the sense of honor and devotion in you…There's talent, oh yes, and a desperate thirst to prove your worth. But where to put you…"

Hiccup gripped the edge of the stool and thought, _"Not Slytherin, not Slytherin, anything but Slytherin."_

"Not Slytherin, eh?" the small voice said. It sounded amused. "Just like my Val, you are. Fitting, as you're her descendant…But are you sure? I have to admit, you would do great there…No? Smart. Well then, dragon boy, I'd say you'll fit just fine in…GRYFFINDOR!"

Hiccup heard the helmet shout the last word for the whole Hall to hear. He took off the hat and walked shakily towards the Gryffindor table. The whole table cheered, even Astrid, though it was rather forced. Her brothers were far more ecstatic; Askeladden shook hands with him vigorously, while the Hofferson twins yelled, "We got Haddock! We got Haddock!"

Hiccup sat across from Astrid and tried to ignore the forced smile on her face, or the frustration burning in her eyes. He could see the High Table better now. At the end nearest him sat Gobber, who caught his eye and gave him the thumbs-up. Phlegma smiled at him and mouthed "well done". At the center of the High Table, sitting in a large gold chair, was Alvis the Noble. Hiccup recognized him at once from the Chocolate Fireworm card he had received from Astrid, which was still in his vest pocket.

Once the Gryffindors had calmed down a little, the sorting continued.

Agatha Berdis became a Gryffindor. Eggshells Dammar became a Hufflepuff. Hilly Thickarm joined Slytherin. Aggie Ardache joined Ravenclaw. Rubella Parkinson became a Slytherin.

"Ragnar Wicket!"

Ragnar walked up to the stool and Phlegma placed the helmet on his head. Hiccup crossed his fingers under the table.

The helmet took it's time, but it finally yelled out, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Ragnar happily jumped off the stool and joined Hiccup. Then he noticed Astrid glaring at him.

" _Great_ , so much for not getting on her bad side," Ragnar groaned.

The sorting continued, and they were left with only a handful of students. Two mischievous looking twins named 'Ruffnut and Tuffnut Thorston' joined Gryffindor as well, as did  Wartihog Brandir and Fishlegs Ingerman, who after seeing Snotlout getting scolded for wearing his helmet had made the wise decision to take his off. Harriette Horse, on the other hand, joined Ravenclaw. The last first-year was a boy named Hardbottom Highhat, who joined Hufflepuff.

With the sorting finished, Phlegma rolled up her scroll and placed the Sorting Helmet back onto the girl statue's head. Like before, it sat lopsided.

Once she sat at her place at the High Table, Alvis the Noble stood up. He smiled at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.

"Welcome!" He said, his voice booming. "Welcome to a new year at Berk! Before our start of term feast, I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First-years should note that Raven's Point is forbidden to all pupils. Also, your Ground Keeper's Mulch and Bucket would like me to remind you that some of our _older_ students would do well to remember that as well."

He gestured to two Vikings sitting at the High Table. One was brown bearded, short and buffy. Like Gobber, he had a pegged leg and a hook for an arm. The second one was blond, tall and muscular, but the thing that stood out about him was that instead of a helmet on his head, he had a bucket. Hiccup guessed that one was Bucket. Mulch, on the other hand, was looking straight at the Hofferson twins. They waved at him cheerfully.

Alvis continued. "I have also been asked by our caretaker, Mildew the Unpleasant, to remind you as well that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.

"Dragon Racing trials will held in second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Flyheart.

"And finally, I must tell you that this year the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Suddenly there was some muttering going on.

"He's not serious, is he?" Hiccup muttered to Askeladden.

"Must be," the older boy said, frowning at Alvis. "It's odd, though; he usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere. The forest's full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that, but the third corridor...I do think he should’ve have told us Prefects, at least."

Alvis smiled. "With that duty taken care of, let us begin."

In an instant, the dishes on the table were filled with plenty of delicious-looking food. The majority of it was meat; chicken, mutton, yak meat, pork, and best of all—fish! Hiccup didn't waste any time and began to help himself to the Icelandic cod, his favorite food. He had to pace himself to keep from cramming the food into his mouth.

Astrid was about to take a chicken wing, but a ghost head went through the plate, startling her. The ghost smiled at the new Gryffindors.

"Hello," the ghost exclaimed. "Welcome to Gryffindor."

Then suddenly three more ghosts appeared out of thin air. One looked like a barmaid, and she was hovering over the Hufflepuff table. The second one was a lady with a cautious face, gliding over the Ravenclaw table. The last one was the most frightening of them all; he was a buff Viking warrior covered in blood and he was fighting an unseen foe over the Slytherin table.

The host in the chicken wing dish floated out of it and showed that he too was a Viking warrior, though he didn't have bloodstains on his clothes.

"Ah, hello Njorthr, sir," Askeladden greeted the ghost airily. "How was your summer holiday?"

The ghost sighed. "I am afraid t’was a tad dreary, good man. Once again, my request to join the Headless Hunt has been denied."

One of the Hofferson twins (Hiccup was fairly certain it was Double) snickered. The other (Trouble?) pulled a mock serious face. "It's because you're only 'nearly' headless, right?"

"It was exactly that, my young lad!"

"Wait; _nearly_ headless?" Ragnar asked. "How can you be _nearly_ headless?"

Njorthr grinned ruefully. He seized his left ear and pulled. His entire head swung off his neck and fell on to his shoulder as if it was on a hinge. All of the first-years had disgusted looks on their faces, while the elder ones laughed.

"You ask a silly question," Ragnar muttered, his eyes wide with shock.

Njorthr flipped his head back on to his neck, bowed to them all, and floated away.

As they ate, the new Gryffindors began to talk about their families. No one asked Hiccup or Astrid, likely already knowing their stories.

"Ruff and I have a Muggle mother, but our real father disappeared suddenly," Tuffnut explained.

"I know the feeling," Ragnar muttered, as he took a bite from his sausage. "And my mother refuses to tell me anything about him, other than the fact that I look a lot like him."

"Well, I'm half and half," Wartihog said. "My papa is a Muggle, a farmer. My mama didn't tell him she was a Valkyrie until after they were already married."

"That must have been a fun Honeymoon," Ragnar noted.

"Yeah, my papa got a nasty shock when he found out, but he adjusted alright."

"What about you, Fishlegs?" Hiccup asked.

Fishlegs, who had been looking rather nervous throughout the entire discussion, jumped like a scalded cat when he was addressed. "Oh! W-well, my Gran brought me up and she's a Valkyrie, but the rest of the family thought I didn’t have any magic for ages. My Great-uncle Alfie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some out of me, but nothing happened until I was eight. Great-uncle Alfie came round for dinner and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles—"

"He must have very strong arm muscles," Ruffnut interrupted, snickering. Her brother joined in.

Hiccup hushed them. "Go on then, Fishlegs."

"Anyway, my Great-aunt Enda offered him some of her special ale and in his excitement he accidentally let me go. I somehow managed to turn the ground below me into mud and it softened the impact. Everyone was so relieved; Gran even cried! My great-uncle Alfie was so pleased he went out and bought me Iggy."

Hiccup looked at the High Table again and saw that Gobber was drinking deeply from his tankard. Phlegma the Fierce was talking to Alvis the Noble. The thing that caught his eye the most was that Jarl the Quivering, still in his strange looking helmet, was talking to a mean looking Viking with greasy black hair and a harsh scowl on his face. The scowling Viking looked past Jarl's helmet straight into Hiccup's eyes. At that very moment, a sharp bolt of pain shot through the scar on Hiccup's forehead.

"Ouch!" Hiccup gasped, clapping a hand to his head. Most of the students didn’t appear to notice, but Astrid Hofferson turned her head to look at him.

"What is it?" she asked. She looked irritated, but Hiccup could see the gleam of curiosity in her eyes.

"N-nothing," he answered quickly, not wanting to bother her. Why should he? The pain had already disappeared.

Astrid didn’t look convinced, but she shrugged and went back to her food. Sighing in relief, Hiccup turned towards Askeladden.

"Hey, Askeladden? Who's the Viking talking to Jarl the Quivering?"

Askeladden glanced at the High Table. "Oh, you know Jarl the Quivering already, do you? No wonder he's trembling more than usual...That's Asketill the Harsh. He's our Potions Master, but its Combat Arts that he'd like to teach; he's been after Jarl's job for years. Admittedly, he would probably make a better teacher…"

Soon the last of the food disappeared and Alvis the Noble got to his feet. Everyone in the Great Hall fell silent.

"Ah, now that our bellies have been filled and good friendships have been rekindled, I have a few parting words…Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"

Silence rang throughout the Hall. Hiccup and Ragnar shared a look of confusion.

Alvis chuckled. "Now then, I think that it's high time you all scurry off to bed. There is a big day of learning ahead tomorrow. First years, please follow your house prefects. Everyone else, please wait for a few minutes."

The Gryffindor first-years followed Askeladden through the chattering crowds. They went through another grand set of doors, but this one lead them even deeper into the mountain. They soon entered a marble staircase that seemed to carry on for miles.

"You may want to mind the staircases; they like to change," Askeladden advised, as they marched up one of the marble staircases.

As they walked they passed, some of the portraits and the pictures in them were moving, whispering and pointing as they passed. Some even seemed to recognize Hiccup; they smiled and waved merrily.

The first years kept climbing for what felt like miles. Hiccup wondered if they would ever reach the place they were going.

Then he noticed a bundle of walking sticks that were floating in mid-air ahead of them. When Askeladden took a step towards them, they started flying at him.

"Peeves the Poltergeist," Askeladden whispered to the first-years. He raised his voice and yelled, "Peeves, show yourself!"

A loud, rude sound, like the air being let out of a balloon, answered.

"Do you want me to go and fetch the Bloody Viking?"

There was a _pop_ and a little man with wickedly dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross-legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks.

"Ooooooh, what have we here?" He cackled. "Ickle firsties, I see! There’s fun to be had!"

He swooped down at them. They all ducked.

"Go away, Peeves, or the Bloody Viking will hear about this, I mean it!" Askeladden barked.

Peeves stuck out his tongue and vanished, dropping the walking sticks on Fishlegs's head. They heard him zooming away, making some of the stone statues shake as he passed.

"You'll want to watch out for Peeves," Askeladden explained as they set off again. "The Bloody Viking is the only one who can control him; he won't even listen to us Prefects."

"Imagine that," Ragnar muttered to Hiccup. They both snickered.

"Here we are," Askeladden exclaimed.

At the very end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat and jolly-looking Valkyrie.

"Do you have the newest password?" She asked, doing a simple little dance.

" _Terror Song,_ " Askeladden answered, and the portrait swung forwards to reveal a round hole in the wall.

They all scrambled through it, Fishlegs needing a leg up, and found themselves in the Gryffindor common room, a cozy round room full of squashy armchairs.

Askeladden directed the girls through one door to their dormitory and the boys through another. At the top of a spiral staircase, as they climbed they looked out of a window and saw Raven Point outside meaning they were near the top of the mountain and facing Raven Point, they found their beds at last: five simple wooden beds. Their trunks had already been brought up. Curled on the bed closest to the windows was Blood-Spatter, who was sound asleep. Too tired to talk much, the boys pulled on their pajamas and fell into their respective beds.

"Great food, huh?" Ragnar muttered to Hiccup, yawning loudly.

They heard a high-pitched scream coming from the girl's dormitory.

Hiccup chuckled. "Sounds like the girls have met Scabbard the Rat."

He looked back at Ragnar, only to find that his new friend was already snoring. Hiccup shrugged, deciding to follow his lead. He curled under the blankets, with Blood-Spatter at his back.

Within minutes, sleep had claimed him, and Hiccup was at peace.

* * *

**Not for long, Hiccup, not for long.**

**(Surprise in the next chapter! Well, not for Gamer Spice and Narutofaninja2—no spoiling it in the comment section, you two!)**


	8. The Potions Master

**Y'know, one of the cool things about doing this series is that I can essentially do whatever I want. Anything can be changed to better fit the environment and the characters. You might have noticed that already. So long as it flows naturally, I can add in or take away things at my leisure. Which is great, because there are quite a few things I want to do (and _not_ do) with this series.**

**One of those things I want to do is explore some of the other characters's points of views. The Harry Potter fandom makes a lot of jokes about how unobservant Harry is, and while I don't think Hiccup is _quite_ as oblivious, there are still things he wouldn't understand.**

**But enough of my rambling. Here's your surprise, folks—a little bit of Astrid's perspective.**

**Let's get started.**

* * *

_Chapter Eight: The Potions Master_

* * *

To say that Astrid Hofferson was irritated would be the understatement of the century.

By the end of her first day at Berk, she had already grown heartily sick of hearing "Look, there he is!" and "Did you see his _scar_?" everywhere the first year Gryffindors went. She had heard more than enough about Hiccup Haddock from her younger brother Egill, who could have been the head of the Hiccup Haddock fan club. She was dreading the inevitable letters begging her to tell him everything she knew about the guy.

It wasn’t fair! She had spent her entire life trying to prove to her older brothers that she was just as tough as they were, if not tougher, and now she had _Hiccup Haddock_ as her competition. To make matters worse, he and his new friend Ragnar were in _her_ house. The Boy Who Lived had been sorted after her— _she_ had been the first new Gryffindor—but it had been _him_ who the entire table had celebrated. They’d been expecting her; she wasn’t as valuable to them as the "hero of the Viking world", who just so happened to be the last living descendant of Hiccup the Dragon Conqueror.

He didn’t _look_ like a hero to Astrid. He was short, even shorter than her, and incredibly scrawny. She could’ve broken both of his arms without breaking a sweat. Her brothers clearly thought he was nice, but they hadn’t seen the way he’d looked at her in the station; like a dragon who hadn’t eaten fresh fish in months. And they certainly hadn’t heard him call her "Milady", which had made her feel so... _strange_ that she hadn’t been able to bring herself to say anything back.

But unfortunately, Hiccup wasn't the only thing she had to worry about. It was becoming abundantly clear that her weapon might not even last until Snoggletog. It was an old double-bladed axe that once belonged to her oldest brother Hakon, and her Uncle Finn before him. It was scratched and dented in numerous places, and her crystal eye, which had come from a Deadly Nadder, wasn't in any better shape.

They soon started their lessons. They had to study the night skies through their telescopes every Wednesday at midnight, and learn the names of different stars and the movements of the planets. Three times a week they went out to the farms behind the mountain to study Herbology, with a plump looking Valkyrie called Eydis the Hard-working, who was the academy's Master Herbalist. In her class, they learned how to take care of strange plants and fungi, and found out what they were used for in Herbalism.

The most boring lesson of them all was easily History of Magic, which was the only class taught by a ghost. The History of Magic Master was Bruadar the Sleep-inducing, and oh dear _gods_ did he live up to his title. From what Hakon and Einar had told her, Bruadar had fallen asleep in front of the staff-room fireplace and got up the next morning to teach, leaving his body behind him. Some said that he didn’t even realize that he had died. He droned on and on while they scribbled down names and dates and got Emeric the Evil and Uric the Oddball mixed up.

Core Magic was much more interesting, and was taught by Alvar the Charmer. He was a tiny Viking, even smaller than Hiccup, with a thick black beard. He had to stand on a pile of books to get noticed.

"Now, for those of you who don't already know, Core Magic is the magic that lies within all of us and takes different forms," Alvar explained. "You see, while a fully trained Viking or Valkyrie _can_ use most forms of core magic, we all have a core that we are particularly gifted at from birth. Today, we will discover your cores."

He studied all of the students in the room, and his gaze naturally fell upon Hiccup, who was sitting two rows and five seats down from her.

(Don’t ask her why she knew that)

"Ah, Mr Haddock, let's start with you," he said. Hiccup got up and walked to the front of the class. "Now, take out your weapon and your crystal eye."

Hiccup showed them his sword, which was nice and shiny, meaning it hadn't seen battle like Astrid's axe, and then his crystal eye. Astrid wasn't able to recognize it at all.

"What crystal eye is that, my boy?" Alvar asked.

"It’s the eye of a night fury, sir," Hiccup answered.

"Ah, a very rare crystal eye, especially these days. Now then, place the crystal eye in the hilt of the sword," Alvar said. Hiccup did as he was told and placed his crystal eye in the slot in the sword's hilt. "Concentrate, and feel the power flowing deep inside of you. Draw it out; let it manifest."

Hiccup closed his eyes and looked as if he was in deep thought. Seconds passed, until golden flames began to cover his body. It was such an enveloping warmth that Astrid could feel the heat go through her skin and wrap around her bones. She found it to be an almost… _pleasant_ sensation. The rest of the class might have begged to differ; they were all sweating profusely.

"Well done, Mr Haddock!" Alvar yelled, wiping at his forehead. "Your Core Magic is like that of an inferno; a force to be reckoned with, but it can be dangerous to everyone if not controlled."

Hiccup opened his eyes, realizing for the first time that he was on fire. To Astrid's surprise, he smiled, as though being on fire was nothing new. Slowly the flames died down, and Hiccup went back to his seat. He was still smiling.

"Alright, who's next?" Alvar asked, looking around the classroom. His eyes then landed on Astrid. "Ah, Miss Hofferson, how about you go next?"

Astrid stood up, lifted her axe, and walked to the front of the class with an air of confidence she didn't truly feel.

Stupid Hiccup; he had effortlessly stolen her thunder.

"Now do what I explained to Mr Haddock," Alvar said.

Astrid nodded and placed her dark yellow crystal eye in the slot of her worn-out axe. She closed her eyes and began to concentrate as hard as she could. She felt the powerful surge of energy passing through her body and heard the crackling of electricity around her.

She opened her eyes and gasped, because flowing around her body were electric sparks. At certain points they wavered like flames.

"Ah, you, my dear, have lightning Core Magic. It is very similar to fire magic in its strength, though it aims smaller and more precise…Curious, though; it appears to be a bit like flames in certain places."

This didn't make Astrid feel much better, and she went back to her seat in stony silence.

"Right, Mr Wicket, let's see what you've got," Alvar said.

Ragnar got up with a short sword in hand. The sword looked like it was second hand with several scratches on it. In his other hand was a dark grey crystal.

"Mr Wicket, I believe you know what to do," Alvar said.

Ragnar nodded, and did the same thing Hiccup and Astrid had done before him. When he closed his eyes to concentrate, almost immediately his body glowed with a strange white light.

Astrid wasn't sure what was happening, and from the looks on the other students neither did they. But Alvar was staring at Ragnar in astonishment.

"Unbelievable," he muttered.

When Ragnar opened his eyes the light around him disappeared. He noticed the look on Alvar’s face.

"What’s wrong, sir?" He asked, looking worried.

"My lad, your Core Magic is aura," Alvar explained. Ragnar and Hiccup apparently knew what he was talking about, because their eyes widened. "Aura is one of the most powerful Core Magic in the world. I myself am one such user, but I never _dreamed_ that I'd see another one in my life..."

"Why's that, sir?" Ruffnut asked.

"Because it's just rare as it is powerful," Alvar explained.

* * *

That had been more than degrading enough for Astrid. Without a doubt, however, Transfiguration turned out to be even worse.

Astrid had already been dreading this class, since she knew Hiccup would get some kind of special treatment, but she soon found out that Phlegma the Fierce was just as her brothers described her; as strict and as frightening as her title might suggest. She had given them a talking-to the moment they had sat down for their first class with her.

"Transfiguration is a very useful brand of magic, but it is complex and dangerous," she said. "And I am warning you right now that from this moment onwards, if anyone is caught fooling around in _my_ classroom, they will be kicked out and given detention. No questions will be asked, and no excuses will be accepted."

Then she had turned Astrid's desk into a boar and back again. Everyone had found it incredible, and all were eager to start. However, they soon learned that they wouldn't be changing the furniture into animals for a long time. After taking a lot of complicated notes, they were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. The only people that were able to succeed were, unsurprisingly, Ragnar and Hiccup. Much to Astrid's fury, Phlegma showed the perfect matches to the entire class and gave the two of them a rare smile.

The class that Astrid, along with almost everyone else, was looking forward to was Combat Arts, but it turned out to be a sad, pathetic little joke. Jarl the Quivering's class was located in the arena at the side of a cliff, and it was where they'd learn to defend themselves against other Vikings and Valkyries and dark creatures, as well as learning how to bond with their own dragon (Not that they could do that yet, seeing as none of them had dragons to train).

However, Jarl spent most of the time discussing the _theory_ side of combat, and hardly any practical work. When asked where he got his weird helmet, he said that he got it from a Dwarf chief in Norway after taking down a Dark Elf, but when Hiccup asked him to tell the story he went bright pink and started talking about the weather.

An odd smell always came from his helmet, and Astrid's twin brothers insisted it was full of Dragon Nip to calm down any wild dragon that came close to him.

* * *

On Friday morning, Astrid was having breakfast in the Great Hall when a light green Terrible Terror that she had never seen before landed in front of her.

"Um…Hello…" she said to it. It stared up at her for a long moment, then opened its mouth, licked its eyeball, and began to…sing?

Well, it _sort of_ sounded like music. Muggles had written worse, anyways, but that wasn't saying much.

However, the sight of a singing Terrible Terror was just too bizarre for even Astrid to keep a straight face. Before long she was laughing in spite of herself.

When the little dragon had finished its tune, it swept into a mock bow. Astrid clapped and gave it a bit of her toast.

"Wish I had a Terrible Terror like you," she whispered to it. "I bet you’re a lot more fun than Scabbard."

"Sharpshot, there you are!" She heard Hiccup call. The dragon nuzzled her hand and flew over to the boy. It landed on his shoulder and purred contently.

She’d just been friendly to Hiccup’s dragon.

Of. Bloody. _Course_.

At first, Astrid though that Hiccup had sent the dragon to her. It certainly fueled her resentment towards him. But he had not acknowledged her, and hadn't even been in the room for the majority of it, so perhaps he had not known about the dragon's little performance.

Whatever—she still didn’t like him.

"What have we got today?" Hiccup asked Ragnar, as he helped himself to a large piece of carp.

(He always preferred to eat fish; Astrid had noticed that at the beginning of term feast. She found it odd, but asking him about that might make him think that she cared—which she didn't!)

"Double Potions with the Slytherins," Ragnar said, peering down at his timetable. "Asketill the Harsh is Head of Slytherin house, isn't he?"

Astrid spoke without thinking. "Yeah, and my brothers have told me that he favors them."

Hiccup and Ragnar looked over at her. Hiccup smiled nervously, while Ragnar merely looked surprised. "Whoa, I didn't know that you liked speaking to us."

"Watch it," she warned, giving him a death glare. She turned away, pointedly ignoring Hiccup.

Much to her relief, the post arrived. Hundreds of Terrible Terrors streamed into the Great Hall, dropping letters and packages onto the laps of their owners.

Hiccup's other Terrible Terror (Blood-Spatter, wasn't it?) dropped a note on Hiccup's lap. He tore it open at once, and Astrid found herself leaning forward, just in case he told Ragnar what the letter said.

(It was only out of curiosity, she told herself. After all, Hiccup hadn't had any other letters delivered so far. She was only curious)

"It's from Gobber," Hiccup told Ragnar. "He's asked me to come to his place for a mug of coffee later today."

"Can I come with you?" Ragnar asked.

"Of course," Hiccup said as he quickly wrote down a reply. Once he had finished, he tied the note onto Blood-Spatter's leg and sent the Terrible Terror off.

 _Another_ teacher who favored Hiccup? Astrid just couldn't win.

* * *

The Potions class was located in the dungeons underneath the castle. It was eerie enough on its own, with a dark color scheme and chilly atmosphere, but the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls definitely didn't help.

Asketill the Harsh swept into the room with a sour expression on his face. Like every other teacher, he noticed Hiccup almost instantly.

"Ah, yes," he said softly, a sneer of disgust appearing on his lips, "Hiccup Haddock; our new… _celebrity_."

Whatever reaction Astrid had been expecting, it most certainly wasn’t _that_.

Astrid saw Snotlout and his friends Hjartán and Falskur snickering in the corner of the classroom. She also saw Hiccup squirm in his seat, looking very uncomfortable.

"Now then, you are all here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," he began. Already, Astrid knew she was going to hate this guy. "Many of you will hardly believe that this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron, with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses…I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death…if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

 _"In that case, the Slytherins will be gone by tomorrow,"_ Astrid thought.

Asketill immediately turned towards Hiccup. "Well then, Haddock, let's see what little you know. What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Astrid didn't understand the question herself, but she could tell that Ragnar knew and that he was wise enough to keep his mouth shut.

Hiccup took a moment or two before answering. "Y-you would get t-the Draught of Living Death, sir."

Asketill took a sharp intake of breath. It was obvious that he had not expected Hiccup to know the answer. "Where would you go looking for a bezoar?"

Again, Hiccup took a little bit of time before he spoke. "I would look in the stomach of a goat, sir. A bezoar will save you from most poisons, right?"

Asketill didn't answer him. "Last question; what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Hiccup looked more confident with this question. "Nothing; they are the same plant, and it also goes by the name of aconite."

Clearly, Hiccup had studied as much as Ragnar. He was slower to answer, sure, but he did at least appear to have a basic understanding of the material.

Astrid tried not to feel too impressed.

Asketill grunted, glaring at the rest of the class. "Well? Why aren't you copying this down?"

Everyone picked up their quills and jotted down everything Hiccup had said.

Things didn't improve as the lesson continued. Astrid was starting to like Asketill even less, if that was even possible. He certainly was the embodiment of "the harsh". For some reason, he picked on Hiccup and Ragnar more than anyone else, as well as Fishlegs, who had melted the bottom of his cauldron. The failed potion seeped across the floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Everyone had to stand on their stools to avoid getting burnt. Poor Fishlegs got drenched in the potion and was moaning in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.

"Be careful, you idiotic boy!" Asketill snarled, as he used some water Core Magic to wash away the spilled potion. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills _before_ taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Fishlegs didn't say anything; he moaned in pain as the boils popped.

"Take him up to Infirmary," Asketill snapped at one student who was nearby. He then glared at Hiccup, who had been working next to Fishlegs. "Haddock, you should have told him to not add the quills! Twenty--no, no, _thirty_ points will be taken from Gryffindor for your blunder."

Hiccup gritted his teeth, but he said nothing against the professor (though she could hear him muttering some choice curses into his cauldron).

Astrid didn't like Hiccup, but she thought it was unfair that Asketill picked on him when everyone was aware that he would have gotten in trouble for telling Fishlegs to not add the quills. Asketill also criticized almost everyone, except for Snotlout, who he seemed to be fond of. This made Snotlout's ego grow even bigger.

After class, Snotlout had his lackeys block Astrid's path. He strode up to her with a smug grin on his face. "Hello there, darling. How are you doing today?"

The nickname didn’t have the same effect on Astrid that Hiccup’s had; she gagged in disgust. "Leave me **alone** , Snotlout."

Snotlout moved closer, apparently not hearing the venom in her voice. "Ah, playing hard to get? That’s sweet, but the act isn’t necessary. What are you doing later today, darling? We could hang out, maybe talk about me—"

"Astrid?" Hiccup interrupted him. Everyone spun around to face him. "Are you coming? You said you would come with me and Ragnar to see Gobber."

Snotlout, Hjartán, and Falskur looked at her, as though to see if this was true. Over Snotlout's shoulder, Hiccup mouthed to her _"Just go with it."_

Another thing to add to her list of things she hated about Hiccup Haddock; she was being forced to accept his help.

(She would never admit to being glad he was there)

"Yeah, I'm coming. I just need these two idiots to _get out of my way_ ," she lied. Grumbling, Hjartán and Falskur moved out of her way, and she sped out the door behind Hiccup.

"I didn't need your help, Haddock," she hissed when she caught up with him. He was moving pretty fast; she had to take two strides to keep up with his one.

Hiccup shrugged. "Well, it didn't involve violence, so you didn't get in trouble. Or did you _want_ to get detention on the first week?"

Rather than answering, Astrid glared down at her boots.

"Besides, it took the wind out of Snotlout's sails without him trying to pummel me—which I get the feeling he _wouldn't_ get in trouble for—so I consider that a bonus. Listen, I've got to go, alright? Ragnar is waiting for me; I wasn't kidding about going to Gobber's. Bye, Astrid."

With that, he left.

Astrid found herself thinking about asking if she could join Hiccup and Ragnar when they went round to Gobber, but she decided against it. She might have felt sorry for him, and he might have rescued her from Snotlout without expecting her to repay him, but that didn't mean she should hang out with him. The amount of hatred she would get from all of the other first year girls was just not worth it.

And she did _not_ like being rescued by anyone, much less someone like _him._

(At least, that's what she told herself)

* * *

Hiccup and Ragnar went outside, where several wooden house were scattered around. Ragnar told Hiccup that this was where all of the professors lived.

"You _do_ know where Gobber lives, right?" Ragnar asked.

"The note said that his house is located near a cliff at the west of the fort, and that there’s a forge in his house," Hiccup said.

"That shouldn't be too hard to find," Ragnar noted, looking relieved.

Hiccup really liked having Ragnar around; he was the first friend he'd ever had, unless you counted Blood-Spatter or Gobber. Hiccup looked at the Gryffindor tattoo on Ragnar’s right forearm and it reminded him of his own. He had been surprised to find that overnight a tattoo had appeared over his heart. Askeladden had been forced to explain to him that the tattoo would disappear when he was away from Berk, and that it was to show which house he belonged to.

They soon reached Gobber's house. It looked like a workshop, with weapons scattered around the place. They noticed that smoke was coming out of the chimney, telling them that someone was inside.

When they entered they saw Grump sleeping near the forge, occasionally waking up long enough to reignite the flame in the forge.

Sitting at a table was Gobber and Phlegma the Fierce, both drinking tankards of ale.

"Ah, Hiccup, I see yeh've brought a friend with yeh," Gobber said once he noticed them.

Hiccup nodded. "His name is Ragnar Wicket."

"Hello," Ragnar said.

Phlegma smiled and turned to Gobber. "These two are both very clever, Gobber. They'll be the best of their year, I can guarantee it."

Both of the boys blushed in embarrassment. Hiccup looked around the room to avoid the adult's gazes, and spotted something that caught his interest. It was photo of five boys, right around Hiccup age, and they all had the Gryffindor tattoos on different parts of their bodies.

Two of them were skinnier and smaller than the others, two were big and buff looking, and the last one towered over them all. They all smiled and waved at Hiccup.

"Ah, I was wondering when yeh'd notice that," Gobber commented, as he placed two coffee-filled mugs on the table. "That was taken on our first day at Berk."

Ragnar's jaw dropped. "Wait, you mean that's you and Hiccup's dad?!"

"Aye, and I can't tell you how much trouble your father got into," Phlegma said, shaking her head. "Val and I tried to stay away from them as much as possible."

"Ha! Maybe in the first few years, but by year four, Valka was getting into trouble right alongside us," Gobber said, smirking at her. She punched his arm, but he didn't even react.

"Who are the other three boys?" Hiccup asked.

Both Gobber and Phlegma looked at each other with stricken expressions.

"So… how was yer first week, lads?" Gobber asked, clearly wanting to change the subject.

Hiccup and Ragnar explained everything that happened over the past week, including Asketill.

"Alvis really needs to talk about him," Phlegma said. "I swear he’s been getting nastier and nastier with every passing year."

"He hates me, I know he does," Hiccup groaned. "And I don't even know why! I knew all of the answers to his questions!"

"I wouldn't worry about it too much, Hiccup. Asketill doesn't like many of the students," Phlegma told him.

"Yeah, but he acts like he's got a grudge on me or something," Hiccup said.

"Me too," Ragnar added. "And he can’t stand Fishlegs, either."

Gobber and Phlegma looked at each other again, clearly trying to find a way to change the subject once more. This time, however, it was Ragnar who changed the subject. He had just noticed a cutting from the _Daily Prophet_.

"Hey, listen to this," he exclaimed, and began to read it.

**_GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST_ **

_Investigation continues into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of a dark Viking or Valkyrie unknown._

_Gringotts' Dwarfs today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day._

" _But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you," said a Gringotts spokesdwarf this afternoon._

"Hey, Gobber and I were there on that day when we got my equipment!" Hiccup gasped.

"Really? Small world," Ragnar mused, placing the cutting down.

But Hiccup had a strong feeling that it was no coincidence that Gobber had emptied vault seven hundred and thirteen on the very same day that an empty vault was broken it to. Now he had more questions than any of the lessons he had attended. What had Gobber taken out of that vault? How had they known to take it out that very day? Where was it now?

And what were Gobber and Phlegma trying to hide from him?

* * *

**"He had been surprised to find that overnight a tattoo had appeared over his heart."**

**(Translation: So freaked out we feared for his health)**

**Oh, BTW, I've got a bit of an announcement. We've reached 100 hits! And there are...eight reviews, not counting my responses.** **All eight are from the same two people, one of whom is my editor.**

**Houston, we have a problem.**

**Can I please, _please_ see at least two unique reviews before I upload chapter nine?**

**Thank you in advance,**

**—Chasingstardust22**


	9. The Midnight Duel

**Happy New Year, folks! (Yes I know I'm 3 days too late to say that, I don't care)**

**So I didn't get those 2 new unique comments...I suppose that's my fault for putting the request in the day after I published the actual chapter. Oh well, live and learn. Here's chapter nine!**

* * *

  _Chapter Nine: The Midnight Duel_

* * *

Hiccup had never thought he could find someone he hated more than Balder, but that was before he had had the misfortune of meeting Snotlout. Part of him was afraid what would happen if those two ever met.

The fact that Snotlout had a crush on Astrid made him all the more unbearable. Not because Hiccup thought the bully had a chance—Astrid clearly couldn’t stand him—but because even to _her_ he was a jerk. He cornered her after every Potions class and tried to convince her to go out with him, saying he would save her from her family’s dishonor and give her anything she wanted. He was undeterred by her death glares, having somehow convinced himself that she was "still playing hard to get out of shyness." (He had literally said that to Hjartán and Falskur. Hiccup had heard it with his own ears)

But unbeknownst to Snotlout, Hiccup was one step ahead of him. He had taken to doubling back and creating diversions so that Astrid could get away. She hadn’t punched him yet, so he was pretty sure she didn’t know. Luckily for him, Potions was the only class the first-year Gryffindors had with the Slytherins, so he didn't have to see much of him.

Or at least, he _didn't,_ until a notice pinned up in the Gryffindor common room was read, making them all groan. Dragon Flying lessons would be starting on Thursday, and Gryffindor and Slytherin would be learning together.

"Great, just what I always wanted—To make a fool out of myself in front of Snotlout. I can already hear the gloating," Hiccup grumbled darkly. He had been looking forward to learning how to bond with a dragon more than anything else.

"I wouldn't be too sure," Ragnar assured him. "Snotlout's always bragging about that time he narrowly escaped Muggles in a helicopter, but I bet he's never even _rode_ a dragon."

Ragnar had a point; Snotlout had always been complaining that first-years weren’t allowed to join their house’s Dragon Racing teams. He wasn't the only one; Wartihog Brandir claimed that he had spent most of his childhood zooming around the countryside on his mother's Timberjack. Even Astrid would say that she rode on her father's Deadly Nadder, which seemed to be her family's dragon of choice, and almost hit a hang-glider.

Fishlegs, on the other hand, had never been on a dragon in his life, because his grandmother had never let him go anywhere near one. Privately, Hiccup felt that she might have had a point, since Fishlegs had a large number of accidents even when his feet were on the ground. Also, he had mentioned to Hiccup and Ragnar that he had been afraid of heights ever since his great-uncle Alfie pushed him off the Blackpool pier.

Hiccup hadn't received a single letter since Gobber's note, something that Snotlout had been quick to notice. Whenever Snotlout's dark purple Terrible Terror, Pain, brought him a package or letter from home, he would open it at the Slytherin table and make sure Hiccup could see.

Iggy then brought Fishlegs a small package from his grandmother. He opened it excitedly and showed them a glass ball the size of a large marble, which seemed to be full of white smoke.

"Is that a Remembrall?" Ragnar asked, looking at the glass ball in interest. "I've read all about them. When the smoke inside turns red, it means that you've forgotten something."

At that moment, the white smoke in the Remembrall turned bright red.

"The only problem is, I can't remember what I've forgotten," Fishlegs said, a puzzled look on his face.

Then a hand appeared and grabbed the Remembrall. They all looked around and saw that Snotlout was clutching the Remembrall in his hand.

Astrid jumped to her feet, clearly hoping for a fight, but Phlegma the Fierce, who could spot trouble faster than any other professor, was there in a flash. She gave Snotlout a powerful death glare.

"What’s going on here?" She demanded.

Hiccup stood up. "Snotlout took Fishlegs’s Remembrall, ma'am. Astrid here was just about to tell him to give it back."

Snotlout, not being stupid enough to want to get on the wrong side of Phlegma (unfortunately), placed the Remembrall on the table.

"I was just looking," he muttered, and he sloped away with Hjartán and Falskur right behind him. Phlegma nodded to Hiccup, gave Astrid a pointed look, and then left them alone.

Astrid glared at him, huffed, and stalked away with her head held high.

Hiccup sighed as he settled back into his seat. "That could’ve gone better."

"She’s got a lot of pride," Ragnar noted. "You just helped her out, and she looked at you like you tried to punch her in the face. Remind me what you see in her again?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Ragnar," Hiccup said, even as his face tinged as red as the remembrall.

* * *

At three-thirty that afternoon, Hiccup, Ragnar and the other Gryffindors hurried down the front steps into the grounds and marched over to a large mountain of ice.

The Slytherins were already there, and all were carrying school saddles. Hiccup had overheard Double and Trouble Hofferson complaining to Astrid about the school saddles, saying that they made the dragons uncomfortable and slowed them down when making tight turns.

Their Dragon Flying Master, a woman by the name of Madam Flyheart, arrived. She had short, spiky grey hair and piercing yellow eyes that reminded Hiccup of a hawk.

"Welcome to your first Dragon Flying lesson," she said. "Today, we will start by going into the Dragon's Sanctuary, to observe the dragons that live there, just waiting for their riders. Now don't feel too bad if you don't find one just yet; most first years never do. One will be provided for you during the lessons."

They soon entered the Sanctuary, and Hiccup was absolutely speechless. There were more dragons in here than the stable near the Dragon's Flame. He saw a beautiful blue and yellow Deadly Nadder, a very violent looking red Monstrous Nightmare and even one that looked like a flying skeleton, but when he got a closer look he saw that it was wearing a collection of random animal bones like some kind of armor. He guessed that one was a Boneknapper.

The other students looked around, pointing out their favorites. One dragon in particular had caught Hiccup's eye. It was about twenty six feet big and had black scales. Its body was sleek; the tail was similar to Cloudjumper’s, and had a pair of giant, bat-like wings. It had strange ear plates on the back of its head and two yellowish-green, cat-like eyes that were similar to his crystal eye.

That was when Hiccup realized that he was looking at a Night Fury, one of the rarest dragons still alive.

"Amazing," he breathed.

Madam Flyheart hushed them. "Now be very quiet; the dragons won't take too kindly to loud noises. And be careful where you step—"

Too late; Fishlegs had stepped on the Night Fury's tail. The dragon roared in pain.

_"OW! Who did that—You! You idiot, didn’t your mother ever teach you not to step on a dragon’s tail?!"_

Amidst cries of protest, Hiccup rushed forward. He stopped before the Night Fury with his hands held out high in front of him. "Stop! It’s OK, it’s OK…"

The Night Fury's eyes narrowed. _"And just what do_ **_you_ ** _want, hatchling?"_

To his own surprise, Hiccup felt completely at ease. "Fishlegs didn't mean to step on your tail, I promise. Right, Fishlegs?"

Fishlegs squeaked when he was addressed, but he managed to nod.

The Night Fury relaxed a little, before tensing again. _"You…you understand me?"_

Hiccup nodded, keeping his voice hushed. "I've always been able to understand dragons."

The Night Fury sniffed him cautiously. _"You smell…familiar. What's your name, hatchling?"_

"I’m Hiccup Haddock. What's your name?"

_"I don't have one; a dragon doesn't typically receive a name until they have a rider. But all of the students are afraid of me, for obvious reasons."_

Hiccup offered him a small smile. "I'm not afraid."

The Night Fury squinted at Hiccup, before the corners of his mouth raised as he attempted to smile too. Hiccup watched as the Night Fury gave him a toothless and gummy smile. _"...I guess you’re not."_

Slowly and carefully, Hiccup stretched out his hand, trying to touch the dragon, but he moved his head backwards slightly and growled at him. Taking a deep breath, Hiccup bowed his head down and closed his eyes, stretching out his hand once more.

After a long moment, Hiccup cringed, and when he opened his eyes, he saw the Night Fury lightly pressing his snout into his hand, his eyes closed. Deep down, Hiccup knew that he had the dragon's trust.

"Incredible!" Madam Flyheart exclaimed. "No one has ever been able to tame that dragon! Why, the only one who he ever trusted was Valka. You're a natural, Hiccup."

Hiccup smiled, hope coursing through him. Maybe he wasn't such a failure after all…

"He's going to need a name, you know," Ragnar pointed out.

Hiccup thought for a moment, and came up with the perfect one.

"Toothless."

"Seriously? You're _really_ going to name the world's most dangerous dragon Toothless?" Astrid asked, her sapphire eyes wide in disbelief.

The newly named Toothless nuzzled Hiccup's side, pleased. _"I think it's alright."_

"Well, he likes it. So why not?" Hiccup said, rubbing the dragon’s head. Astrid huffed and turned away.

Ten minutes later, none of the other students had found their own dragons. Nearly everyone was shooting Hiccup jealous looks as he readjusted his school saddle for the third time.

"I think that's as loose as it goes," he told Toothless, who groaned.

Madam Flyheart explained to the students how to mount a dragon properly, and that if a dragon had never had anyone on its back to spread its dry hide with saliva to make it more relaxed.

She went around making sure everyone had done it right. Hiccup was awarded twenty points for getting it right on the first try. Snotlout, on the other hand, learned that he'd been mounting incorrectly for years, which delighted Hiccup and Ragnar. Astrid herself grinned at the sight of it as well.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you'll take off hard," she told them. "Have your dragons hover about five feet in the air and come back down. On my whistle, three, two—"

However, Fishlegs jumped the gun and took off before the whistle had even touched Madam Flyheart's lips.

"Come back, boy!" She yelled, but Fishlegs likely couldn’t hear her; his Deadly Nadder was rising higher and higher, like a cork shot out of a bottle. When they were twenty feet in the air, the dragon suddenly began doing tricks: corkscrews, loop-de-loops and even an upward spiral. They looked like fun to Hiccup, but doing all these tricks caused Fishlegs to fall off of the dragon. He landed face-first on the ground with a nasty _thud_.

The dragon then landed back onto the ground, after noticing that it had just lost its rider, and went to check on Fishlegs.

 _"Oops. My bad!"_ it warbled nervously.

Toothless winced. _"I’m still mad at him for stepping on my tail, but_ _wow_ _…"_

Hiccup nodded. "That _had_ to hurt."

Madam Flyheart bent over Fishlegs, her face almost as white as his.

"Broken wrist," she muttered. "Thank the Gods it wasn’t anything worse...Come on, boy…It's alright, up you get..."

She turned to the rest of the class with a scowl.

"None of you are to move while I take this boy up to the Infirmary! You leave those dragons alone, or you'll be out of Berk before you can say 'Dragon Racing'. Come on, dear."

Fishlegs clutched his wrist and hobbled off with Madam Flyheart, who had her arm around him.

No sooner were they out of earshot than Snotlout burst out laughing.

"Did you see his face, the great lump?"

The other Slytherins joined in.

"Shut up, Snotlout," one of the Gryffindor girls snapped.

"Ooh, sticking up for Fishlegs are we?" Rubella Parkinson, a hard-faced Slytherin girl, sneered. "I never thought _you'd_ like big fat cry-babies, Maria."

"I'd watch it if I were you, Rubella, or you might find yourself in the Infirmary with Fishlegs," Astrid warned.

"Look!" Snotlout exclaimed, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass. "It's that stupid thing Fishlegs' grandmother sent him."

The Remembrall glittered in the sun as the bully held it up. "Maybe if he had given this a squeeze he would have remembered to fall on his fat ass."

The Slytherins laughed again, even louder than before.

"Maybe _you_ should squeeze it; maybe you'll be able to find your brain…If you ever had one, that is," Ragnar shot back.

This time the Gryffindors laughed.

"Give it here, Snotlout," Hiccup said, stepping forward with his hand outstretched. The entire group went silent as they noticed the scowl on his face.

Snotlout gave him a nasty smirk.

"No, I think I'll put in a place for Fishlegs to find," he said, hopping onto his green and yellow Deadly Nadder and taking off. "How about I leave it…on the roof?"

Snotlout hadn’t been lying when he said he could fly a dragon, or at least hover on one. He flew up higher and higher into the air.

"What's the matter, Haddock? This a bit beyond your reach?" He yelled.

Hiccup ran to Toothless and began to mount, but Astrid stopped him.

"Don’t!" She shouted. "You heard what Madam Flyheart said. Besides, you don't even know how to _fly_ that thing."

Snotlout yelled down to her, "Don't worry about me, darling! That runt is nothing; there’s no shame in rooting for the _clear_ victor!"

Hiccup glanced at her, one eyebrow raised. "What was that, Milady? I’m afraid you may have to repeat yourself; the "clear victor" was being too damn loud…"

Astrid gritted her teeth and glared at the ground, but Hiccup could see the bright red blush that had bloomed across her cheeks. "Give him Helheim."

Her begrudging approval was all the encouragement Hiccup needed. He mounted, grasped the reins of the saddle, and flew up towards Snotlout.

This was a different feeling entirely. Hiccup had never felt like this before. The heat of the sun on his skin and the wind rushing through his hair; it was indescribable. He could also feel Toothless's movements beneath him, as though they were a part of each other. He felt so… _free_.

It was then he realized that he had found something that he could do without being taught. He urged Toothless to go higher, and heard screams and gasps of some of the girls back on the ground, and admiring whoops from Ragnar, Wartihog and Tuffnut.

He turned Toothless around sharply to face Snotlout in mid-air. Snotlout looked stunned; he probably couldn't believe that a half-blooded Viking, who had lived with Muggles for ten years without knowing magic existed, could out-fly him with ease.

"Give it here, Snotlout, or I'll knock you off of that dragon!" Hiccup warned.

"Oh, you will now, will you?" Snotlout sneered, but he looked worried.

 _"I've got this, Hiccup,"_ Toothless growled. He opened his mouth and fired three weak blasts of blue fire. Snotlout only just managed to dodge them, and saw Hiccup and Toothless charging towards him. He quickly made his dragon drop a bit to avoid them. Hiccup made a sharp turn and had Toothless hover in the air. A few people below were clapping.

"This is your last warning, Snotlout; next time, you won't be so lucky," Hiccup called. He felt extremely triumphant.

Snotlout was apparently thinking the same thing, and he had decided to cut his losses.

"Catch it if you can, then!" he shouted, and threw the Remembrall into the air. It streaked back towards the ground.

Toothless burst forward at full speed, chasing after the Remembrall. Hiccup pressed closer, bracing himself against the wind.

People began to scream, fearing that they would crash into the ground. On instinct, Astrid covered her eyes.

The Remembrall and Hiccup were getting close to the ground…he stretched his hand out…and a foot from the ground he caught it, just in time to get Toothless to pull up into a loop-de-loop and land gently on the grass. Hiccup slid off, with the Remembrall clutched in his hand.

"Well done, bud!" Hiccup praised Toothless, who rumbled happily.

Unknown to him, Phlegma the Fierce had been looking out of her window just as he began to chase after the Remembrall. She quickly rushed out of her house and ran toward the cheering class, yelling at the top of her lungs.

"HICCUP HORRENDOUS HADDOCK THE THIRD!"

Hiccup spun around, and his heart promptly sank like a rock. Toothless nudged his side, worried.

" _Never_ …in all of my time at this academy…"

Phlegma was almost speechless with shock, and her eyes flashed furiously. "…how _could_ you…A wonder you didn't break your neck…"

"Hey, it wasn't his fault—"

"Be quiet, Miss Thorston—"

"But Snotlout—"

"That's _enough_ , Mr Wicket. Hiccup, follow me, now."

Hiccup caught sight of Snotlout, Hjartán and Falskur's triumphant faces as he left, walking numbly in Phlegma's wake as she strode towards the mountain. He was going to get expelled, he knew it. He wanted to explain to Phlegma that Snotlout was the one at fault, but his voice failed him. She didn't even look at him, which made Hiccup even more nervous than he already was. It didn't look good for him; he hadn't even been here for a month and he'd be packing his bags in about ten minutes.

They soon passed the Great Hall, went up some staircases and down a corridor. Hiccup was wondering where they were going. All this suspense was killing him, not that he was excited about getting expelled. His only comfort at the moment was Toothless, who followed him faithfully.

He already had his own dragon; could they send him back to the Dalvors with a Night Fury? They had expelled Gobber, but let him stay as an apprentice to the former Forge Master. Maybe he could do the same, and be Gobber's apprentice. That didn't sound too bad…

Phlegma stopped outside a classroom. She opened the door and poked her head inside.

"Excuse me, Alvar, could I borrow Eret for a moment?"

Wait a minute, who was Eret?

Eret turned out to be a burly fifth-year boy with black haired that was tied in some sort of ponytail. He came out of Alvar's class, looking confused.

"Follow me, you two," Phlegma said, and they marched on up the corridor, Eret looking curiously at Hiccup, no doubt wondering why a short, scrawny first-year was with them. Then he shot a terrified look at Toothless, who growled a curse-filled threat in turn.

"In here."

Phlegma pointed them into a classroom which was empty except for Peeves, who was busy writing rude words on the blackboard.

"Out, Peeves!" she barked. Peeves threw the chalk into a bin, which clanged loudly, and he swooped out cursing. Phlegma slammed the door behind him and turned to face the two boys.

"Hiccup, this is Eret Eretson. Eret…I've found you a Seeker."

Eret’s expression changed from puzzlement to delight.

"Are you serious, ma'am?"

"Absolutely," Phlegma said crisply. "The boy's a natural, just like his mother. Was that your first time on a dragon, Hiccup?"

Hiccup nodded, unable to speak. He didn't expect this to happen, and he had no idea what they were talking about either, but he knew that he wasn't getting expelled.

"He caught a Remembrall in his hand after a fifty-foot dive," Phlegma told Eret. "He didn't even scratch himself! Einar Hofferson couldn't have done it…In fact, the only person I've ever seen who could pull off something like that was Valka Evensong."

Eret was now looking as though all his dreams had come true at once.

"He already has a dragon, as you can see. He is the perfect candidate," Phlegma finished.

"Ever seen Dragon Racing before, Hiccup?" Eret asked excitedly.

"Eret's the captain of the Gryffindor team," Phlegma explained.

"He's exactly the right build for a Seeker, too," Eret noted, walking around Hiccup and sizing him up. "Light…speedy…I'd say that his dragon is perfect, too…What's his name?"

"Toothless," Hiccup managed to squeak.

"Odd name, but he's the perfect dragon for a seeker," Eret said brightly. "You'll also need a decent saddle…a Nimbus Two Thousand or a Cleansweep Seven, I'd say."

"I'll speak to Alvis and see if we can't bend the first-year rule. By Odin, we need a far better team than we had last year. _Flattened_ in that last match by Slytherin, I couldn't look Asketill in the face for weeks…"

Phlegma stopped herself and looked at Hiccup, with a warning look.

"I want you to hear that you're training hard, Hiccup, or I may change my mind about punishing you."

Hiccup nodded. Then Phlegma smiled.

"Both your parents were Dragon Racing players as well. Your mother was the Seeker; she could outfly anyone on Cloudjumper. Your father on the other was the captain and chaser, and he slammed into his opponents on his Rumblehorn like they weren't even there. They'd be so proud of you."

* * *

"You're kidding."

"Trust me, you’d know if I was lying."

It was dinner time. Hiccup had just finished telling Ragnar what had happened after he'd left the grounds with Phlegma. Ragnar was staring at him like he'd just fallen from Asgard.

"They made you Seeker?" He asked. "But first-years never make the house teams. You must be the youngest Dragon Racer in a—"

"Century," Hiccup finished, as he took a bite of his salmon. He felt particularly hungry after the excitement of the afternoon. "Eret told me."

"Guess with your parents being such great players, it was to be expected," Ragnar said slowly, as he took a bite from a chicken wing. "So when do you and Toothless start training?"

"Next week," Hiccup answered, grinning. "You can't tell anyone—Eret wants to keep it a secret."

"Don't worry, Hiccup; you can trust me."

Double and Trouble entered the Great Hall. They spotted Hiccup and hurried over to him.

"Well done," Trouble muttered in a low voice. "Eret just told us."

"Aren't you guys on the team too?" Ragnar asked.

"Yeah, we're the team's Beaters."

"I tell you, we're going to win that Dragon Race Cup for sure this year," Double said. "We haven't won since Einar left, but this year's team is going to be brilliant. You must be good, Hiccup, because Eret was practically skipping when he told us."

"I'd steer clear of Astrid for a while, Hiccup; she's pissed off that you've become a Dragon Racer," Trouble warned. "She figures that it's her fault for not stopping you from going after Snotlout."

"Anyway, our pal Lock Judson reckons he's found a new secret passageway out of the academy."

"Bet it's that one behind the statue of Garth the Smarmy we found in our first week. See you later, gentlemen."

Double and Trouble had hardly been gone for a minute when someone far less welcomed turned up: Snotlout, flanked by Hjartán and Falskur.

"Having a last meal, Useless?" Snotlout sneered.

"Useless? Insults aside, you do realize that we don't get titles until we leave Berk," Ragnar reminded him.

"But it fits him perfectly," Snotlout retorted. "After all, I bet you'll be getting on the first train back to the Muggles, won't you?"

"No, I managed to talk my way out of it. She _is_ a family friend, after all, and Toothless would be quite hard to hide," Hiccup said coolly. "And I see you're a lot braver now that you have both feet on the ground."

Hiccup knew that Snotlout and his sidekicks wouldn't do anything with the High Table full of powerful Vikings and Valkyries.

"I don't need a dragon to take _you_ on," Snotlout growled. "Tonight, if you want. Viking duel. Crystal eyes and one weapon each. What's the matter, Useless? Never heard of a Viking duel before, I suppose?"

"Of course he has," Ragnar scoffed, wheeling around. "I'm his second, who's yours?"

Snotlout looked at Hjartán and Falskur, sizing them up.

"Hjartán," he said at last. "Come at Midnight, alright? We'll meet you in the trophy room, that's always unlocked?"

When Snotlout and his two sidekicks left, Hiccup and Ragnar stared at each other.

"What's a Viking duel?" Hiccup asked. "And what do you mean, you're my second?"

"Well, from what I've read about Viking duels, a second's there to take over if you die," Ragnar said, his tone way too casual.

Hiccup just stared at him, horrified.

Ragnar caught sight of the look on his face and added quickly, "But people only die in proper duels; you know, with real Vikings. The most you and Snotlout'll be able to do is send sparks of flames at each other. Neither of you knows enough magic to do any _real_ damage. I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway."

"But last time I checked, he uses a mace as a weapon and can use the same kind of Core Magic as me," Hiccup reminded him. His heart was clenched in fear. "He's also stronger than me. What am I supposed to do if nothing happens?"

"I don’t know, kick him in-between the legs or something," Ragnar suggested with a shrug. Despite his nerves, Hiccup snorted.

"Excuse me."

They both looked up and saw the face of a very angry Astrid Hofferson.

"You do like to sneak up on people, don't you?" Ragnar asked. His expression was exasperated.

"Only the ones that deserve it," she answered stiffly. She then turned to Hiccup, looking like she wanted to strangle him. "Not only do I hear that you're on the Dragon Racing team, but now you're going to fight Snotlout in a duel?!"

"What’s it to you?" Ragnar asked, very clearly getting tired of this conversion.

"Don't you realize that if you get caught that you'll cause Gryffindor to lose a whole lot of points? It's really very selfish of you."

"And last I checked, it wasn't any of your business," Ragnar said. "Now if you’ll excuse us, we have a duel to prepare for."

He grabbed a hold of Hiccup’s arm and hauled him towards the door, leaving a fuming Astrid behind.

* * *

Ragnar was lying in his bed, ready to leave for the Viking duel. He'd spent all the evening giving Hiccup advice and doing some sparring practice with him. Hiccup was a lot stronger than the other students gave him credit for.

They both knew that they could get caught by Mildew and his pet sheep, Fungus. Ragnar had asked him if he wanted to back out, but he had shaken his head and said, "This is my big chance to beat Snotlout, face to face, and there’s no way in Helheim I'm going to blow it."

Ragnar looked at his wristwatch and saw that it was half past eleven. He walked over to Hiccup's bed and nudged him, telling him it was time to go.

They pulled on their normal clothes, picked up their weapons and crept across the tower room, down the spiral staircase and into the Gryffindor common room. A few embers were still glowing in the fireplace, turning all the armchairs into hunched black shadows. They had almost reached the portrait hole when a voice spoke from the chair nearest them, "Are you two seriously going to go through with this?"

A handheld lamp flickered on. It was clutched by Astrid Hofferson, wearing an old blue dressing-gown and one of her infamous death glares.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?" Ragnar asked. He didn't need Astrid grating down on Hiccup's confidence.

"I almost told my brother," Astrid snapped. "You know Askeladden, the Perfect."

Ever since he knew he could use aura Core Magic, Alvar had been teaching Ragnar how to use it. He could now use it to sense people around him, and was able to more accurately read their emotions, which was something he'd always done without knowing it. He could tell that Astrid was serious about telling her brother about them, that she was furious at them, Hiccup in particular, and also that she was trying to hide something, not only from them, but from herself as well.

He then glanced at his watch and realized that they'd just wasted five minutes.

"Come on," he said to Hiccup. He pushed open the portrait of the Fat Valkyrie and climbed through the hole.

Astrid apparently wasn't going to give up that easily. She followed him and Hiccup through the portrait hole, hissing at them like an angry Terrible Terror.

"Don't you care about Gryffindor, do you _only_ care about yourselves, I don't want Slytherin to win the House Cup a seventh time, and you'll lose all the points I got from Jarl about knowing how to train and bond with a Deadly Nadder!"

"Then maybe if you stay in the common room you won't get caught and won't make Gryffindor lose even more points," Ragnar grumbled. He _really_ didn't understand what Hiccup saw in her. Sure, he supposed she was pretty enough, but she was also violent and rude.

"Fine, but be it on your own head," she said.

Astrid spun on her heel, planning to renter the common room, but the portrait of the Fat Valkyrie was empty. Apparently she had gone on a night-time visit, which meant that Astrid couldn't renter the common room.

"Now what am I going to do?" She asked, trying and failing to control her rage.

"I don't know, but we've got some place to be," Ragnar said, smirking a bit. "Have fun."

They were about to leave, but all of a sudden Astrid decided to join them.

"I'm coming with you," she said.

"What, want to see my Vikingness at action?" Hiccup joked.

" _No_ ," she said, glaring daggers at him. "I just don't want to stand around and wait for Mildew to catch me…Besides, if by some miracle you _do_ beat him, I'd…I’d like to see his face."

Hiccup blinked and looked at Ragnar. "Did she just say she would like to hang out with us?" He whispered out of the corner of his mouth. Ragnar could tell that he was feeling like Snoggletog had just arrived early; he didn't need any aura magic to know that.

He looked back at Astrid, who wasn't showing any emotion apart from annoyance and anger.

"It's hard to tell," he said finally.

They arrived at the trophy room, which was located on the third floor, exactly at midnight. The only problem was that Snotlout and Hjartán were nowhere to be seen. Ragnar had a bad feeling about this, and he used his aura magic to check if there was anyone nearby.

"Looks like he's chickened out," Hiccup said, somehow sounding both disappointed and relieved at the same time.

"You're surprised?" Astrid scoffed.

At that moment, Ragnar sensed two auras coming towards them and it wasn't Snotlout and Hjartán. Nope, it was Mildew and Fungus.

"Quick, hide! Mildew is coming this way," Ragnar hissed.

Without a second thought, the three of them scurried silently towards the door, and away from Mildew's approaching footsteps. Ragnar saw that Mildew and Fungus' auras had just entered the trophy room.

"They're in here somewhere, Fungus," he heard him mutter, "probably hiding, the brats."

"Follow me this way!" Hiccup mouthed to them.

They began to creep down a long gallery full of stone statues. They could hear Mildew getting nearer. As they crept along the gallery, Hiccup accidentally knocked over an axe that landed on the ground with a massive crash.

"RUN!" Astrid yelled.

The three of them sprinted down the gallery, not looking back to see whether Mildew was following them. Ragnar was too busy running to use his aura magic to sense if they were being followed. Hiccup, easily the fastest, was leading them, and Ragnar could tell he had no idea where he was going. They stopped for a moment to catch their breath.

"I think we've lost him," Hiccup panted, leaning against the wall and wiping his forehead.

Ragnar had to agree, but he was too winded to say so.

"I…told…you…so," Astrid gasped, clutching at the stitch in her chest. Ragnar didn't need his aura magic to tell that she was very angry at the two of them.

"Let's just try and get make to the common room before Mildew and his pet sheep find us," Ragnar said as he regained his breath.

"Snotlout tricked you," Astrid said to Hiccup in a very annoyed tone. "Figures he'd had to use dirty tricks to get you in trouble. He must have tipped Mildew off that you two would be in the trophy room."

Ragnar had had the same thought about five minutes ago, but he knew Hiccup well enough to know that the guy was already blaming himself, and he didn't want to make him feel any lower.

Then he used to aura magic again and saw that Mildew was getting closer.

"He's coming!" He yelled.

"Let's go," Hiccup said. Once more they ran, but soon stopped when they slammed into a locked door.

"This is it!" Hiccup moaned, as they pushed helplessly at the door. "We're done for! The Dalvors’ll be seeing me after all!"

They could hear footsteps; Mildew must be running as fast as he could to catch them.

"Oh, get out of my way!" Astrid snarled. She shoved Hiccup out of the way (he blushed) and kicked the door so hard that it banged open (And now his blush increased. Did he find the violence attractive or something?).

Without a second thought they rushed into the room and closed the door behind them.

"Is anyone here, Fungus?" Mildew's voice said. They were all holding their breath and Ragnar could sense that Mildew and Fungus' auras fading away.

"Mildew's gone," he reported.

Astrid let out a sigh of relief. "He probably thinks that this door is locked."

"It _was_ locked," Ragnar reminded her.

"And for good reason," Hiccup gasped.

Both Ragnar and Astrid turned around to see what Hiccup was looking at. They soon realized that they weren't in a room. They were in a corridor; the forbidden corridor on the third floor. And now they knew why it was forbidden.

Standing in front of them was a monstrous robotic dog, a robotic dog that filled the whole space between ceiling and floor. It had three heads; three pairs of rolling, robotic red eyes; three noses, steaming and twitching in their direction; and three drooling mouths, oil hanging  from the sharp metal fangs in slippery ropes.

Ragnar knew that the only reason they weren't already dead was that their sudden appearance had taken the monstrosity by surprise, but it was quickly getting over that; there was no mistaking what those thunderous growls meant.

One of the others screamed. They all quickly opened the door, not caring if Mildew was behind it, and used their combined strength to shut it and block it, leaving the barking robotic dog behind it.

They then ran as fast as they could back up to the seventh floor to the portrait of the Fat Valkyrie.

"Where on Midgard have you all been?" She asked, looking at their flushed, sweaty faces.

"Never mind that…Terror song, Terror song," Hiccup panted, and the portrait swung forwards. They scrambled into the common room and collapsed into the closest armchairs, all trembling like leaves.

Wait… _what_?

Ragnar did a double-take. Sure enough, the mighty Astrid Hofferson was trembling so bad you’d think she’d been left out in the cold all night. Her face was whiter than a sheet, and she looked like she was about to faint.

 _This_ , he realized, was the true Astrid, the version she kept hidden beneath a mask of rage and violence. She wasn't fearless at all! She was as terrified as they were, if not more. He imagined that she had learned that she had to block her emotions from having five older brothers.

He still couldn't tell what she was hiding, though. That little secret went deeper than he was willing to delve.

"What do they think they're doing, keeping a thing like that locked up in a school?" Hiccup gasped.

"Y-you don't use your eyes, d-d-do you?" Astrid stuttered. A stuttering Astrid; now that might just be the craziest thing to happen all evening. "D-didn't you see what it wa-was standing on?"

"You mean its feet?" Ragnar gasped, not believing what he was hearing. "No, sorry, I was too busy looking at its heads. Or maybe you didn't notice that it had three of them."

"It-it was standing on a trapdoor. It m-must h-have been put there to guard something..."

"Guarding something?" Hiccup asked, looking intrigued. "Like what?"

Astrid merely shook her head. "H-How should I know?"

She struggled to stand up. When she managed to do it, she glared at them, but it was weak, an absolute fake.

"Well I-I'm going to bed, before you two get another idea to get us killed! O-or worse, _expelled_."

She stormed out on somewhat shaky legs, and they heard her slam the door to the girl's dormitory.

"She really needs to sort her priorities out," Ragnar muttered. "Honestly, you’d think we _dragged_ her along with us."

He looked at Hiccup, who just sat staring at the door to the girl's dormitory, deep in thought. Ragnar wasn't sure, since his best friend was a difficult guy to read, but he was sure that Hiccup knew what that monstrous robotic dog was guarding.

* * *

**Indeed he does, Ragnar. Indeed he does...**

**Alright, seriously guys. Can I _please_ get two unique comments before chapter ten goes up? I'll give you a shout-out!**

**...Please?**


	10. Halloween

**Well I only got one unique reviewer (who provided an _awesome_ idea for this story)...That being said, I _did_ get two more kudos and another bookmark, so that works out to be about even.**

**Anyways, new updating schedule! My editor and I are going to try and get out an update every Monday. Yep, an update every week, and I'm thinking of taking a two-week break between each story.**

**(NOTE: The two-week break is subject to change, and it most likely will, but we're really going to try and stick with updating every Monday)**

**With that done, onto chapter ten!**

* * *

_Chapter Ten: Halloween_

* * *

When Hiccup and Ragnar entered the Great Hall the next morning, they couldn't help but notice Snotlout's stunned face. After almost getting caught by Mildew, and then nearly getting eaten alive by a giant robotic dog, they were both exhausted, yet perfectly cheerful. They had both decided that meeting said giant robotic dog was an excellent adventure, and they were quite keen to have another one as soon as possible. In the meantime, however, Hiccup explained to Ragnar about the package that seemed to have been moved from Gringotts to Berk, and they spent a good hour wondering what it could possibly be, for it to have such heavy protection.

"It's either really valuable, really dangerous, or both," Ragnar had determined.

But all they knew for sure about the object was that it was roughly two inches long, so they didn't have much of a chance at guessing what it was without further clues.

Astrid didn't show the slightest bit of interest in what lay underneath the dog and the trapdoor. Ragnar had informed Hiccup that this was just a charade, and that she was just as fascinated as they were, but she didn't want to let them know that. Either way, she refused to talk to either of them.

Hiccup tried to not let it bother him.

The only thing that she openly agreed with them on was that they all wanted to get back at Snotlout. To Hiccup's utter delight, such an opportunity arrived with the post about a week later.

As the Terrible Terrors flooded into the Great Hall as usual, everyone's attention was caught at once by an enormous package carried by six Titan Terrible Terrors. Hiccup was just as interested as everyone else to see what was in this large parcel, and who it was for. He was therefore amazed when the Terrible Terrors soared down and dropped it right in front of him, knocking his plate to the floor. They had hardly fluttered out of the way when another, smaller Terrible Terror dropped a letter on top of the parcel.

Hiccup figured he should open the letter first, which was lucky, because it said:

_DO NOT OPEN THIS BOX AT THE TABLE. It contains your new Nimbus Two Thousand, but I don't want everybody knowing you've got a saddle or they'll all want one. Eret Eretson will meet you tonight at Dragon Stables at seven o'clock for your first training session._

_—Phlegma the Fierce_

Hiccup had difficulty hiding his glee as he handed the note to Ragnar to read.

"I've heard about it," Ragnar said, looking at the parcel with amazement. "It's supposed to be the best saddle made yet!"

They left the Great Hall quickly, wanting to look at the saddle in private before their first lesson, but halfway across the Entrance Hall they found that the Grand Staircase was being blocked by Snotlout, Hjartán and Falskur. Snotlout seized the package from Hiccup's hands and shook it.

"That's a saddle," he said.

"Yes, and last time I checked, it belonged to Hiccup," Ragnar said, snatching the package and handing it back to Hiccup.

Snotlout's expression was a mixture of jealousy and spite.

"You'll be for it this time, Useless! First-years aren't allowed to bring their saddles to Berk."

"Oh, it's not just any old saddle," Ragnar informed him, failing to hold back a smirk. "It's a Nimbus Two Thousand. What did you say you've got at home, Snotlout? A Comet Two Sixty?" He grinned at Hiccup. "I've heard about them. They make you look flashy, but they're not in the same league as the Nimbus."

"What would you know about it, Wicket?" Snotlout snapped back, looking rattled. "You'd never even _seen_ a dragon before you came here, much less ridden one."

"It's called reading, you should try it sometime," Ragnar suggested.

Before Snotlout could react, Alvar the Charmer appeared at his elbow.

"Not arguing, I hope, are you boys?" he asked.

Snotlout turned to him, clearly eager to get Hiccup into trouble. "Haddock's been sent a saddle, sir."

"Yes, yes, that's right," Alvar said, beaming at Hiccup. "Alvis told us all about the special circumstances, Mr Haddock. What model is it, if you don’t mind me asking?"

"A Nimbus Two Thousand, sir," Hiccup answered, noticing the look of horror on Snotlout's face. He knew it was wrong, but he was _so_ going to enjoy this moment. "And it's really thanks to Snotlout here that I've got it," he added, just to rub it in.

"Well, you're making your late parents proud," Alvar praised, before walking into the Great Hall.

Hiccup and Ragnar headed upstairs. Ragnar was laughing at Snotlout's confused face, as the bully tried to figure out what had just happened. Hiccup couldn't help but grin.

"Well, it’s the truth, isn't it?" he chortled as they reached the top of the marble staircase. "If he hadn't been such a jerk, I wouldn't be on the team…"

"So, you've got yourself a Nimbus Two Thousand saddle now, do you?" an angry voice asked. They looked behind them and saw Astrid fuming with rage as she stormed up towards them.

Hiccup didn't understand why she was always so angry at him all the time. Seriously, what had he done to make her so mad?

"Listen Astrid, I'm sorry that we almost got you killed, but can't we be friends?" he asked.

(He knew his question had been poorly phrased even as he said it, but he had to try)

"Friends…with you," she said, half laughing. "Why would I be friends with someone that gets in trouble every five minutes, and thinks that life is a silly game? Personally, I would like to live to see my next birthday."

"That’s it, I’ve had it. You know what your problem is, Astrid?" Ragnar snapped. His fists were clenched, and his light green eyes were stormy. Hiccup had never seen his friend this angry before, but it was a little terrifying.

Astrid's eyes narrowed into slits, but her curiosity apparently gotten the best of her. "...What?"

"It's that you consider everyone around you an obstacle, and that you just have to push past it. Not only that, but your violent, competitive, and downright _rude_ nature isn't very friendly, either. Hiccup’s the closest thing to a friend that you have, and it's no wonder why. With a friend like you, who would need enemies?!"

Astrid gave him a strange look. It took Hiccup a moment to realize that she looked almost... _Hurt_.

Hiccup took a step forward. "Uh, Astrid? Are you alright?"

"I...I..." She shook herself and glared at him, but this time Hiccup could tell it was an act. "None of your business, Haddock. Just leave me alone."

With that, she stormed off. To Hiccup, though, it looked more like she was running away.

When she was out of his line of view, Hiccup turned to Ragnar.

"You sure have a way with the ladies, Rag," he said dryly.

"What? Even _you_ can’t say it's not true."

* * *

Later that day, at seven o'clock, Hiccup was standing outside the Dragon Stables, attempting to adjust the new saddle onto Toothless. It fit the dragon much better than the ones from the school.

"We might have to make a few adjustments in the long run, but it'll work just fine for now," he told Toothless, who nodded in agreement. He heard a roar, and looked up to see a dragon flying down towards them.

It was thirty nine feet big, with large wings, a wide torso, and a tail with a club-like hammer on the tip. The front part of it was heavily armed and a large lower jaw, a battle ax-shaped muzzle. It looked like a mix of truffle pig, a rhinoceros, a battle ax, and a scarab beetle. Its scales were green and brown.

Hiccup recognized the species of dragon from his Book of Dragons, which was easily his favorite. It was a Rumblehorn, being ridden by Eret.

"Glad you made it, Hiccup," Eret said as the dragon landed.

"Why in Thor's name would I miss this?" Hiccup asked.

The moment that Eret got off his dragon, the Rumblehorn walked over to Hiccup and began to nuzzle him.

"Uh…why is he so friendly to me?" Hiccup asked, though he had a feeling that he already knew the answer.

"Because he was your father's dragon before he was mine. He probably remembers you from when you were younger.

"You see Hiccup, when a dragon rider dies their dragons fly off to find a new rider," Eret explained as he placed a hand on the Rumblehorn. Hiccup decided not to mention that he had already been told this by Phlegma. "When I was in my second-year, I found Skullcrusher near Raven Point, and he…he took a liking to me."

"Incredible," Hiccup muttered. Skullcrusher went over to Toothless and sniffed him, wanting to make sure that the dragon was a good match to the son of his old rider. Toothless growled several warnings, but to no avail.

Eret walked over to Skullcrusher and pulled off a crate that was attached to the saddle. He opened it.

Inside were four different-sized balls, all painted different colors. Some were stained with—Oh gods, was that blood?

"Right, then, Dragon Racing is easy enough to understand," Eret said. "Each team has seven players: three Chasers, two Beaters, a Keeper, and a Seeker—that's you."

He pulled out a large white ball from the crate and tossed it over to Hiccup. "There are three kinds of ball; this one is called the Quaffle. It flies around and multiples. The Chasers try to catch them and place them in the opposing team's basket to score. One Quaffle is worth ten points. The Keeper—that's me—defends the basket. Are you with me so far?"

"So it's kind of like basketball, isn't it?" Hiccup said, tossing the Quaffle back to Eret.

"What's basketball?" Eret asked curiously.

Whoops.

"Never mind," Hiccup said quickly. He noticed two identical balls, dark blue and slightly smaller than the white Quaffle. He also noticed that they were trying to escape the straps that were holding them inside the box. "Uh, Eret? What are those?"

Eret placed the Quaffle back into the box and handed Hiccup what looked like a rounder's bat. "You better take this," he said. He then bent down and freed one of the balls.

At once, the dark blue ball took off, bounced off the walls of the stable, scaring a few of the dragons, and flew straight towards Hiccup.

Hiccup did the only thing he could think of and slammed the ball with the bat. Even though he had always been terrible at baseball, he managed to hit it. The ball flew straight out of the stable door.

"Not bad, Hiccup," Eret said, looking impressed. "You'd make a decent Beater."

"Thanks."

Then the ball came zooming back into the stable and towards them.

"Oh no," Was all Eret said before the ball slammed into his chest.

He quickly pinned it to the ground, with some difficulty managed to force it the crate, and strapped it down.

"What in the name of Thor's hammer was that thing?" Hiccup asked, both amazed and frightened.

"Bludger," Eret gasped. "They rocket around the pitch, trying to knock people off their dragons. It's the job of the Beaters to both defend their team and send the Bludgers to the opposing team."

"Uh, have the Bludgers ever killed anyone?"

"No—Well, never at Berk, at least... We've had a couple of broken jaws, but nothing worse than that. Now, let's get to your job. You don't have to worry about the Quaffle or the Bludgers—"

"—unless they crack my head open, of course."

"I wouldn’t worry; the Hofferson twins have never failed us yet. It's the _other_ team that has to worry about them."

Eret then pulled out the last ball from the crate. This one was the smallest, and it was jet black like Toothless’s scales. Hiccup also noticed that it had little jet black wings that were fluttering so frantically he could barely see them.

"This," Eret said, "Is the Dark Snitch, and it's the most important ball of the lot. It was designed to mimic the behavior of a Night Fury."

Hiccup couldn't help but look at the Snitch, then at Toothless, trying to compare the two.

"That means it's clever, speedy and difficult to see, especially when it's dark or cloudy. It's your job, as the Seeker, to catch it before the other team's Seeker does. That means you have to avoid the Chasers, Beaters, Bludgers and Quaffle to get to it. The Seeker that catches it earns their team a hundred and fifty points and ends the game. That means the game can go on for a long time; in fact I believe the current record for the longest Dragon Racing game is about three months. They had to keep bringing on substitutes so the players and their dragons could eat and get some sleep.

"Oh, and one more thing; all the players, apart from the Beaters and Keepers, are allowed to bring their weapons and can use magic," Eret said. Then he noticed Hiccup's face and quickly added, "But they all have to be sheathed. And dragons have to fire their attacks at their weakest. Also, if you land in the water, you're out of the match."

"Water?" Hiccup asked. "What water?"

"Oh, the game takes place over the Dark Lake, and if you fall in, its game. You got all that?"

Hiccup nodded, and they spent the rest of the evening training for their match against Slytherin.

* * *

Hiccup couldn't believe that he had already been at Berk for two months. He absolutely loved it here, though he wished he wasn't so busy with homework and Dragon Racing practice. Ragnar had to help him with most of his homework now because he was so busy.

It was Halloween today, and they would be having a massive feast in the Great Hall. Hiccup had noticed that Astrid had been purposely avoiding him and Ragnar ever since his new Nimbus Two Thousand saddle showed up. He had been concerned before, but tonight he just wanted to enjoy the feast. If Astrid wanted to avoid him, then so be it. He didn't care.

(He had been telling himself that all day, as though the repetition would somehow make the statement true)

All around the Great Hall there were a thousand live bats, fluttering from the walls and ceiling, while a thousand more swooped over the tables in low black clouds. Jack-o'-lanterns were hovering overhead, producing some kind of ghostly fire.

Astrid wasn't there; Hiccup had noticed that the moment he sat down. He tried to ignore it, but his eyes kept creeping over to her empty seat.

"She's in the bathroom," Rubella whispered to him as she passed the table, a malicious grin on her face. "You didn't hear this from me, but I think she was _crying_."

That didn't make Hiccup feel any better.

Suddenly, Jarl the Quivering came sprinting into the Hall. His helmet was askew, and terror was etched onto his face as he screamed: "Troll! In the dungeons!"

Silence filled the room as everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at Jarl.

"Thought you ought to know," Jarl whispered. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he fainted.

Everyone panicked, dropping everything and running for their lives.

"SILENCE!" Alvis the Noble roared. Everyone froze and looked at him. "Students, please, do not panic. Everything will be fine. Now, prefects, kindly lead your houses back to the dormitories. Teachers, follow me to the dungeons."

Askeladden began leading the Gryffindors back to the tower, acting like he was the one in charge.

"Follow me! Stick together, first years! No need to fear the troll if you follow my orders! Stay close behind me, now. Make way, first years coming through! Excuse me, I'm a prefect!"

"How could a troll get in?" Hiccup asked Ragnar.

"Not on its own, from what I've read they're really stupid," Ragnar answered. "I'm guessing Peeves let it in for a Halloween joke."

They passed different groups of people hurrying in different directions. As they jostled their way through a crowd of confused Hufflepuffs, Hiccup stopped in his tracks. A horrible thought had just occurred to him, one far worse than how the troll got in.

"We've got another problem."

Ragnar stared at him. "What could be more troubling than a Troll wandering through Berk?" he asked, as if Hiccup had gone mad.

"Astrid wasn't in the Great Hall. She doesn't know there's a troll about!"

"Well, maybe it won't go her way?"

"I don't know…but I don't want to take that chance."

"Hiccup, don't—"

Too late; Hiccup was gone. Grumbling, Ragnar followed him.

They managed to slip past Askeladden and the other Gryffindors. They just turned a corner into the corridor that led them to the girl toilets when they heard footsteps behind them.

"Is it Askeladden?" Hiccup asked Ragnar, knowing he could tell who it was with his aura magic.

"No, Asketill!" Ragnar said, pulling Hiccup behind a large stone dragon. They saw Asketill cross the corridor and disappear from view.

"What's he doing here?" Hiccup whispered. "I thought that Alvis was leading the other teachers to the dungeons."

"Search me."

They quietly crept along the next corridor after Asketill's fading footsteps.

"He's heading for the third floor," Hiccup said, but Ragnar held up his hand.

"Can you smell something?"

Hiccup sniffed. A foul stench reached his nostrils, a mixture of old socks and kind of public toilets that no one ever seemed to clean.

They then heard a high, petrified scream, and it sound very familiar.

They looked at each other. "Astrid!" they said together.

They quickly ran towards where they heard the screaming. Ragnar was leading and confirmed what Hiccup feared. Astrid was in the girl's toilets and standing in front of her was the troll.

When they entered the toilet, they saw Astrid pressed against the wall, clutching her leg. Hiccup wasn't a healer, but he could tell that she had sprained her ankle. Her axe was a clear foot away from her.

In front of her towered a twelve foot tall troll. Its skin was dull, granite gray, its great lumpy body like a boulder with its small bald head perched on top like coconut. It had short legs thick as tree trunks with flat, horny feet. The smell coming from it was incredible, it was even worse than Balder's socks. It was holding a hide wooden club, which dragged along the floor because its arms were so long. In other words, it was Hjartán's big brother.

The troll then began to advance towards Astrid, knocking the sinks off the walls as it went.

"Got any idea how we deal with this?" Ragnar asked.

"You confuse it, while I try and get Astrid out of here," Hiccup said, as he slowly made his way towards Astrid.

The troll looked down at Astrid angrily and raised its club, ready to deal the final blow. Hiccup felt a surge of rage course through him.

"Oi, pea-brain, I’m over here!" Ragnar yelled, throwing a metal pipe at the troll.

The troll's skin was so thick that it didn't seem to notice the pipe hitting its shoulder, but it heard the yelling and paused again, turning its ugly snout towards Ragnar instead, giving Hiccup time to get to Astrid.

"Come on, let's get you out of here," Hiccup said, lifting one of her arms over his shoulders in order to support her.

"I didn't need your help," she said, but her voice was weak, and she was gasping for breath. Hiccup wondered whether or not she was about to faint.

"Sure you don't," he said gently, trying to keep her focused.

The troll then swung its club at Ragnar, who created an aura shield just in time. The shield protected him from receiving a deadly blow, but it was hit with enough force to send him into a wall. The troll then advanced towards him to finish him off.

It was then that Hiccup did something that was both very brave and very stupid; he placed Astrid safely against the wall, grabbed a hold of the troll's club, landed onto the troll's head as it swung its club and fastened his arms around the troll's neck from behind. The troll didn't feel him hanging there, but it did notice that Hiccup was using the strongest fire magic he could muster to burn its small head. It was a lot stronger than Hiccup had ever thought he was capable of.

Howling in pain, the troll began to shake its head around and finally managed to grab Hiccup's leg. It held Hiccup upside down and began to swing its club at him.

"Do something!" Hiccup yelled, as he very narrowly avoided getting hit by the club.

"Like what?" Ragnar asked, struggling to get up.

"Anything will do!" Hiccup yelled, as he managed to avoid getting hit by the club again.

Ragnar then outstretched his arms and shot out some aura mist from them. The aura mist took the form of a hand and grabbed hold of the club just as the troll began to swing it at Hiccup.

The troll looked at its hand and notice that its club had disappeared. It looked up to see the club above its head being held up by some kind of strange mist. Then the mist around it disappeared, making the club land on its owner's head, hard. The troll dropped Hiccup and fell face first onto the floor, with a thud that made the whole room tremble.

The three of them stared at the troll, speechless. Astrid looked at Hiccup and Ragnar, not believing what they had done, and probably thinking that she was hallucinating from the pain in her leg.

"D-did you kill it?" she slurred.

"No, I think it's just knocked out," Hiccup said, nudging the body with his foot.

Astrid looked at them, not sure what to say.

"Why did you help me?" she finally asked. "I mean, after everything I've done, why would you come and save me?"

"It just felt like the right thing to do."

Astrid pushed herself up, then limped over to him (her ankle was still badly injured) and just stared at him. Then she punched his arm as hard as she could, which wasn't very strong at the moment.

"What was that for?" Hiccup asked, rubbing his arm.

"That's for nearly getting yourself killed," Astrid said. Hiccup looked at Ragnar, who just shrugged. Next thing he knew, Astrid had wrapped her arms around him in a quick hug. "And that's for...everything else."

She pulled away too fast, though, and nearly collapsed. Hiccup caught her, and attempted to keep her upright.

"Let's get you to the Infirmary, Astrid," he said into her ear. Astrid nodded, too tired to protest.

They heard footsteps heading towards them. Before they could do anything else, Phlegma the Fierce had come bursting into the room, closely followed by Asketill, with Jarl bringing up the rear. Jarl took one look at the troll, let out a faint whimper, and sat down quickly on a toilet, clutching his heart.

Asketill bent over the troll, inspecting it. Phlegma was looking at Ragnar, Hiccup and Astrid; she looked both angry and shocked at the sight before her.

"Explain, all of you," she said with cold fury in her voice.

"It's my fault, ma'am," Astrid said quietly. Her voice was hoarse, as though it pained her to speak.

"Miss Hofferson!"

"I wasn't in the Great Hall when the troll got out. It came in here, it tried to kill me, and I...I screamed for help." She lowered her head, as though ashamed to admit it. "If they hadn't found me, I'd be dead by now. Hiccup gave it some nasty burns and Ragnar knocked it out with its own club. They didn't have time to come and fetch anyone; it was about to finish me off when they arrived."

"Well—in that case…" Phlegma said, staring at the three of them. "I just hope you two know how lucky you are; not many first-years could take on a full-grown mountain troll and live to tell the tale!" she said, "Fifty points…will be awarded to each of you, for sheer dumb luck."

She then pointed at Astrid, who had finally fainted from the pain of her ankle.

"Now, please, take Miss Hofferson to the Infirmary."

Hiccup nodded, gently moving Astrid so that she was lying in his arms, so that he could carry her safely. He tried to hide his blush, but it was probably still visible.

Ragnar picked up her axe and together, he and Hiccup walked Astrid to the Infirmary.

As they walked down the corridor, Astrid stirred in Hiccup's arms and muttered a drowsy "Thank you" into his shirt.

He blushed even harder. "You're welcome, M-Milady."

For that moment on, Astrid Hofferson became the best of friends with Hiccup Haddock and Ragnar Wicket (Mostly Hiccup). There are some adventures you simply _can't_ share without ending up liking each other, and knocking out a twelve-foot mountain troll is one of them.

* * *

**And with that, our trio is complete. Now comes the fun part...after a game of Dragon Racing, of course.**

**Can I ask for another unique comment? Remember, everyone gets a shout-out at the end!**


	11. Dragon Racing

**Well would you look at that? We actually managed to keep to the schedule! And my editor was busy all weekend, so that is _extra_ impressive. I was starting to worry that we wouldn't make it, but here we are.**

**Look at all those comments! I don't even think the original version got that many! (And if it did, it definitely wasn't by chapter eleven)**

**Have I mentioned that I love you guys? No? Well, rest assured, I do.**

**Let's get started!**

* * *

_Chapter Eleven: Dragon Racing_

* * *

As they entered November, the weather suddenly turned cold. The Grand Mountain had started to get covered in snow, and the Black Lake was completely iced over. Bucket and Mulch had to hack the ice at the Dragon Racing pitch so that they could actually play.

Dragon Racing season had begun. On Saturday, Hiccup would be playing in his first match after weeks of training: Gryffindor versus Slytherin. If Gryffindor won, they would move up into third place in the House Championship.

Hardly anyone had seen Hiccup play. Eret had decided that, as their secret weapon, Hiccup should be kept, well, secret. However, the news about him playing Seeker had somehow leaked out (Astrid held a strong suspicion that it was Snotlout, and he had to agree). He didn’t know which was worse; people telling him he’d be brilliant, or people telling him they’d enchant a mattress to float beneath him in case he fell.

Astrid was now fully healed, and spent most of her time with Hiccup and Ragnar. She had to admit that she was wrong about Hiccup. When she first laid eyes on him, she thought that he'd be a fame-seeking glory hog, kind of like Snotlout, but now she knew that he was just a nice guy trying to make his place in a world he didn’t really understand. And other than occasionally referring to her as Milady, which he mostly did in a teasing manner, he treated her like  she had always been his friend. Had she been wrong to think he had a crush on her?

It was also good that she had Ragnar as a friend now, because he'd really helped her out with her homework. He would never let her copy ("You won’t learn that way, Astrid"), but by asking him to read it through, she got the right answers anyway. Honestly, how she had survived two months without his help was beyond her. And at his suggestion, Astrid had lent Hiccup Einar’s old _Dragon Racing through the Ages_ book in an attempt to help him relax.

It was an interesting read. Hiccup had learned that before they used enchanted balls, they'd used sheep; that Seekers were usually the smallest and fastest players, and that most serious Dragon Racing accidents seemed to happen to them, a fact that did _not_ help his anxiety; that although these days people rarely died taking part in Dragon Racing, referees had been known to vanish and turned up months later in the Sahara Desert, often with no memory of how they got there.

Astrid had only seen Toothless once since becoming Hiccup's friend, and he seemed to like her now. She couldn't help but feel a little jealous of Hiccup, but decided not to mention it since he was more nervous than Jarl.

The day before Hiccup's first Dragon Racing match, the three friends were out in the freezing courtyard, wandering aimlessly. Hiccup was keeping them warm with a small flame cupped in one hand, and was reading from _Dragon Racing through the Ages_ in the other. Occasionally he would look up and ask Astrid a question about something he didn't understand, but he was mostly silent.

Then Ragnar alerted them that he could sense Asketill coming their way. Hiccup quickly dispelled the flame in his hand, but the book in his hand must’ve caught Asketill's eye, because he approached them with a deeper-than-usual scowl.

"What's that you've got there, Haddock?"

Hiccup showed him the title of the book.

"Library books are not to be taken outside the school," Asketill barked, snatching the book from him. "Give it to me. Twenty points from Gryffindor."

"But sir, it's not a library book; it's mine!" Astrid yelled.

Asketill glared at her and left without a word.

"He didn't even return the points he took from us," Ragnar said angrily.

"And he's making up rules," Astrid added. "How am I going to explain to mum that my potions teacher took my book?"

Hiccup, however, had noticed something far more intriguing.

"What's wrong with his leg?" he asked, watching as Asketill limped away.

"Dunno, but he was heading to the third floor on Halloween," Ragnar reminded him.

"What's that got to do with it?" Astrid asked. Then she realized what he was getting at. "Wait, are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"I'm afraid so, I think that he let that troll in to create a diversion so he could get past that three head robot dog, but he got bit, and that's why he's limping."

"As much as I believe you, we have no proof," Hiccup said. "What I'd like to know is what's so important that that thing is needed to guard it."

All three of them didn't know, all they knew was that it was the package that Hiccup had seen Gobber take from vault seven hundred and thirteen.

* * *

The next morning dawned very bright and cold. The Great Hall was full of delicious smell of fried sausages and the cheerful chatter of everyone looking forward to a good Dragon Racing match.

Hiccup, however, was feeling anything _but_ excitement. He had been unable to sleep the night before, filled with the fear that he would let his team down. His fellow Gryffindors were trying to get him to eat his breakfast with very little success.

"You've got to eat some breakfast," Ragnar said.

"I don't want anything," Hiccup said, not touching any of the food that they had piled onto his plate.

"Please, at least have a bit of toast," Astrid wheedled.

"I'm not hungry."

"You're going to need your strength," Fishlegs said. "The Seekers are always the ones who get nobbled by the other team."

Hiccup buried his head into his arms, groaning.

Astrid shot the boy a dirty look. "Yes, thank you, Fishlegs," she spat.

"Anything to help," Fishlegs said, failing to grasp her sarcasm or anger.

"Come on, Hiccup," she muttered to Hiccup. "You can do this. You survived the Dragon Lord when you were a _baby_. A few weeks ago, you took on a mountain troll to save me. After all that, what's a little game of Dragon Racing?"

Hiccup still didn't eat anything, but she did succeed in making him feel better.

* * *

By eleven o'clock, the whole school was out on the Dark Lake at the Dragon Racing arena.

The arena wasn't _really_ an arena; it was a bunch of bleachers circling a safety net that lay just below the water. Many of the students had binoculars with them, because even though the seats were raised high into the air, it was still difficult to see what was going on at times.

Astrid and Ragnar joined Fishlegs and the Thorston twins up on the top row. As a surprise for Hiccup, they had painted a large banner on one of the sheets Scabbard had ruined. It read " _We stand with Hiccup"_ and Tuffnut, who was surprisingly good at drawing, had done a large Night Fury underneath. Then Ragnar had used some of his aura magic to make the paint flash different colors.

Meanwhile, in the changing rooms, Hiccup and the rest of the team were putting scarlet face paint on themselves and their dragons (Slytherin would be playing in green). None of the dragons liked this treatment.

Eret cleared his throat for silence.

"Okay, guys, this is it," he said.

"The big one," Double interrupted.

"The one we've all been waiting for," Trouble added.

"We know Eret's speech by heart," Double informed Hiccup with a wink. "We were on the team last year."

"Shut up, you two," Eret said, rolling his eyes. "If we follow the strategy we'll win. I know it."

"Eret has been nicknamed the Trapper," Chaser Ashe Herkson told Hiccup. "His plans always trap his opponents."

"Just stick to the plan, alright? Let’s win this thing."

The entire team cheered, got onto their dragons and flew into the arena.

Up in the stands, the Hofferson twins' friend Lock Jordson was doing the commentary for the match, closely watched by Phlegma the Fierce.

"Welcome to the first Dragon Racing match of the season. It's Gryffindor versus Slytherin, now let's meet the teams. In red, we have Gryffindor, and first up is their captain and Keeper, Eret Eretson, and his Rumblehorn Skullcrusher. He's being followed by the Chasers, Ashe Herkson and her Monstrous Nightmare Fireburst, Hilda Spinster and her Thunderdrum Boom, and Kari Bellson along with her Hobblegrunt Gruff. Their being followed by their Beaters Double and Trouble Hofferson and their Deadly Nadders Spike and Strike, and lastly their brand new Seeker, the youngest in a century, riding upon the unholy offspring of lightning and death itself; ladies and gentlemen, Hiccup Haddock and his Night Fury, Toothless!"

There was a booming cheer as the Gryffindors team flew into the arena. Hiccup saw the fluttering banner high above, flashing _"We stand with Hiccup"_ over the crowd. His heart skipped, and he felt a bit braver.

"Now let's welcome the reigning champs flying in green, Slytherin." All of the Gryffindors (and most of the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws) booed. "Their captain and their lead Chaser, Dagur Owson, and his Skrill Deathwatcher, and he is being followed by the other two Chasers, Wrath Montson and Asger Pucson, and their riding their Monstrous Nightmares Overshot and Fang-crusher. Next is their Keeper, Manning Betchson, riding his Gronckle Stomper. Next up are their Beaters, Olin Derson and Loki Boltson, riding on their Hideous Zippleback Blindshot and Killfire, and lastly their Seeker, Tore Higgson, and his Grapple Grounder Eggbeater."

The Slytherins cheered as their team flew out into the arena and hovered in front of the Gryffindors team, but they were the only ones. Hiccup looked at their captain; he was a tall and lanky sixth-year, but he had a mad look in his eye.

Madam Flyheart then flew in on her Timberjack, Headstone. On Headstone's back was the crate holding the balls.

"Here comes Madam Flyheart to referee the game," Lock Jordson said.

Madam Flyheart hovered in-between the two teams. "Now, I want a nice fair game, from all of you," she said, glaring directly at Dagur, who smirked in response.

"Get ready," She said, as she placed a hand on the crate. "Get set." She unlocked it. "Go!"

The moment she opened the crate, all of the balls shot out. The Quaffle multiplied and flew in different directions, the Bludgers circled around the pitch, looking as if they were trying to find the perfect target, and the Snitch disappeared from sight.

All the players took up their positions; Hiccup's position was hovering about forty feet in the air. Eret had told him to keep out of the way until he saw the Snitch and to help the team out in any way he could. He was also listening to Lock Jordson’s commentary.

"One of the Quaffles is taken by Ashe Herkson of Gryffindor—what an _excellent_ Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too—"

"JORDSON, WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU?!"

"Oh, um, I’m sorry, ma'am."

Hiccup couldn't help but chuckle as Phlegma gave Lock Jordson one of her darkest death glares. Then Olin Derson and Loki Boleson's Hideous Zippleback split into two separate dragons.

"What just happened?" Tuffnut asked in shock.

"Oh, the Hideous Zippleback, along with other dragons with multiple heads, are able to split apart for certain amounts of time," Ragnar explained. "It’s part of why twins tend to favor them."

"Cool, I want one!"

Ruffnut was too busy looking at Eret to pay much attention to the conversation.

They heard Lock Jordson continuing on with his commentary.

"Herkson is really belting along up there, a neat pass to Hilda Spinson, a good find of Eret Eretson, last year only a reserve—back to Herkson and—no, Dagur Owson has shot a lightning blast, blocking her, and he's taken another Quaffle and is off—that Skrill of his is fast, and he shoots—no, stopped by Eret Eretson. Oh, but Gryffindor has got two at the same time, and they’re making their way to the enemy basket and they both shot—and Kari Bellson scores while the Slytherin keeper was too busy stopping the other Quaffle. Oh, but Asger Pucson has got a Quaffle, and is speeding towards the goalposts, but Trouble Hofferson fired a perfect spine shot and that's followed by Bludger, knocking Asger Pucson off Fang-crusher and landed in the water below, he's out of the game. Herkson has caught the Quaffle and is heading towards the goalposts, but Dagur is firing some dangerous lighting magic at her. Oh, it's been narrowly countered by a plasma blast from Hiccup Haddock's Night Fury, Toothless. By the gods, what incredible aim! I didn't even know that was possible…Dagur's complaining that Haddock shouldn't be attacking him, but the rule books clearly states that, like the Beaters, the Seeker can defend his teammates as long as he doesn't attack any the enemy teammates directly. Oh, and Herkson looks like she going to sc—and she has, GRYFFINDOR SCORES!"

Gryffindor cheers filled the cold air, with howls and moans from the Slytherins.

"Budge up there, move along."

"Gobber, you’re here!"

Astrid and Ragnar squeezed together to give Gobber enough space to join them.

"Decided to join you lot," Gobber said, patting the large pair of binoculars around his neck. "I see there's still no sign of the Snitch."

"Nope," Astrid said. "But you should have _seen_ that block Hiccup just did."

"Oh, I did, and his mother couldn't have pulled it off any better," Gobber said, raising his binoculars and peering skywards at the speck that was Hiccup.

Hiccup was still keeping an eye out for the Snitch, and he could tell that Toothless was getting inpatient.

"Easy there, bud," Hiccup said, scratching behind the dragon’s ear. "We'll get our chance, don’t you worry."

That was when he saw a Bludger heading towards him. It was more like a cannon ball in his opinion, but he was forced into dodging it, and Double Hofferson zoomed past him chasing after it.

"Alright there, Hiccup?" he had time to yell, as he beat the Bludger furiously towards Dagur Owson.

"Slytherin’s in possession with another Quaffle," Lock Jordson was saying. "Chaser Wrath Montson ducks two Bludgers, two Hofferson and Chaser Kari Bellson and speeds towards the—wait a minute— _was that the Dark Snitch?_ "

A murmur ran through the crowd as Wrath Montson dropped the Quaffle, too busy looking over his shoulder at the flash of gold that passed his left ear to see the mace that Hilda Spinson was holding and slammed straight into it, knocking him into the water below.

Hiccup didn't waste any time; he zoomed after it on Toothless. Slytherin Seeker Tore Higgson had seen it too. Neck and neck they hurtled towards the Snitch. They both drew their swords and began to do a mid-air duel. Somehow, Hiccup managed to hit him on the head hard enough to make him fall back a bit. It seemed that he would get the Snitch, but Dagur Owson had blocked him on purpose. Hiccup had almost fallen into the water, but luckily Toothless was able to just barely keep them airborne.

All the Gryffindors were in a fit of rage.

"Foul!" they screamed.

Madam Flyheart spoke angrily to Dagur and then ordered a free shot at the basket for Gryffindor. But in all the confusion, of course, the Dark Snitch had disappeared from sight again.

In the stands, Ruffnut and Tuffnut were yelling, "Send him off! Give him the red card!"

"This isn't like muggle sports, guys," Astrid reminded them. "You can't send people off in Dragon Racing unless they hit the water...What's a red card, anyway?"

But Gobber was on the twins' side.

"They ought to change the rules; Dagur could have knocked Hiccup right out of the air."

"He's desperate, he's the only Chaser left on the Slytherins team," Ragnar said.

"Yeah, and if they get the Dark Snitch, Gryffindor wins," Astrid added.

Lock Jordson was finding it difficult to not take sides.

"So…after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating—"

"Mr. Jordson!" Phlegma growled.

"I mean, after that open and revolting foul—"

"Jordson, I'm warning you—"

"Alright, alright; Dagur nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could have happened to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinson, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue play, Gryffindor still in possession."

Then suddenly Hiccup noticed that Toothless was flying strangely. Toothless began to shake suddenly, and spin. Hiccup held on tight to Toothless' saddle, trying to stay on. For some reason Hiccup knew that Toothless wasn't going it purpose.

"What's the matter, bud?!" Hiccup yelled, trying to stay on him.

But Toothless warbled back that he was just as confused as he was.

In the stands, his friends saw Hiccup's problem.

"What's up with Toothless?" Gobber asked, looking through his binoculars and saw the problem. "Someone is interfering with the saddle."

"How do you know?" Tuffnut asked.

"I've spent a lot of time with saddles, and it has some kind of dark aura around it."

"Did something happen to it when Dagur blocked him?" Fishlegs whispered.

"No, only powerful Dark Magic can interfere with a saddle like a Nimbus Two Thousand."

At these words, Ragnar quickly seized Gobber's binoculars, but instead of looking up at Hiccup, he started looking frantically at the crowd.

"I thought so, Asketill is jinxing the saddle," Ragnar whispered to Astrid. "But I don't know how to stop him."

"Leave it to me," Astrid growled, seeing red.

Before Ragnar could say anything, she had disappeared. Ragnar turned the binoculars back on Hiccup. Toothless was out of control and because the rest of Gryffindors team were too busy trying to help him, they failed to notice Dagur seizing a Quaffle and scoring ten times without anyone noticing.

"Whatever you're doing, Astrid, you better do it fast," Ragnar muttered desperately.

Astrid had fought her way across to the stand where Asketill was sitting and crept behind the seats. Upon reaching Asketill, she silently pulled out her axe and shot a small burst of lighting to set fire to his helmet. She then quickly left before he noticed she was there

Asketill didn't notice that he was on fire until another teacher pointed it out. He quickly got up, knocking some teachers off their seats, including Jarl as he tried to stomp out the fire.

Almost at the same time, Toothless regained control.

"You alright, bud?" Hiccup asked.

Toothless gave him a small growl. _"Yep, and I'm raring to go!"_

"Then let's win this thing."

He then chased after Tore Higgson, who had seen the Snitch. He quickly caught up to him and the two began to duel once again. The Snitch then took a steep dive straight towards the water and they followed it.

When the Snitch didn't seem to be pulling up, Tore Higgson pulled up out of fear. Hiccup, on the other hand, continued chasing after it. The Snitch then pulled out at the last second and Toothless followed suit, they were now only a few inches above the water.

"Keep it steady, bud," Hiccup said as he balanced himself on Toothless' back.

He slowly out stretched his arm trying to capture it, but then Dagur fired a lightning blast at them. The blast didn't hit Toothless, but it was enough to throw Hiccup off of him.

Hiccup landed on the net below the lake’s surface. The first thing that came to mind was that the water was freezing. The second thing was that something felt as though it was trying to escape his mouth.

From up in the stands, Gobber looked at Hiccup, with a worried look on his face.

"He looks like he's going to be sick," he said to the others.

Then Hiccup spat whatever was in his mouth in the palm of his hands. He stared at it in wonder for a moment, before holding it up with a short scream of triumph.

It was the Dark Snitch.

"Hiccup Haddock has caught the Dark Snitch, giving Gryffindor one hundred and fifty points."

That meant Gryffindor won by one hundred and seventy points to one hundred and ten.

"Gryffindor wins!" Madam Flyheart yelled, blowing into her whistle.

The Gryffindors cheered as loud as a Thunderdrum's roar. Hiccup just lay in the water, his adrenaline from winning completely spent.

* * *

Twenty minutes after the match, Hiccup was in Gobber's place, wrapped in no less than ten towels and having a few strong mugs of coffee to keep him awake and alert. Astrid and Ragnar sat on opposite sides of him. Toothless was with them, eating a large basket of fish.

"It was Asketill," Astrid explained, readjusting one of the towels. "Ragnar and I saw him. He was cursing your saddle, muttering, he wouldn't take his eyes off of you."

"Listen, I don't always see eye to eye with Asketill, but Alvis trusts him, and that's good enough for me," Gobber said, drinking from his huge mug of coffee. "Besides, why would Asketill do something like that?"

"I don't know," Hiccup said slowly. "Why did he try to pass that giant three headed dog on Halloween?"

Gobber spit out his coffee almost at once.

"Who told you about Rover?" he said.

"R-Rover?!" Astrid exclaimed.

"That _thing_ has a _name_?" Ragnar questioned, sounding just as shocked as Astrid.

"Of course he does, I built him a year ago," Gobber explained. "Then I lent him to Alvis to guard the—"

He stopped.

"Yes?" Hiccup said eagerly.

"Shouldn't have said that," Gobber said. He then looked at the three of them. "Don't ask me any more questions. That's top secret, that is."

"But Gobber, whatever Rover is guarding, Asketill's trying to steal it."

"Codswallop, Asketill is doing nothing of the sort."

"Then why did he just try to kill Hiccup?" Ragnar asked. "Listen, I've read about all about jinxes. You've got to make eye contact, and Asketill _wasn't blinking_."

"You've only know him for a few months, and I've known him for years. I think I'm in better position to judge someone," Gobber said.

Before they could argue, Gobber slammed his icy mace onto the table.

"Now listen to me, all three of you… You're meddling into thinks you're not supposed not be meddling in." He then looked at Hiccup. "Listen, Hiccup, your father and me might have gotten into trouble when we were at Berk, but he knew better to question Alvis's judgment. Whatever that dog is guarding is between Alvis the Noble, and Flamel the Eternal."

"Who’s Flamel the Eternal?" Hiccup asked.

Gobber realized his mistake and kept on muttering to himself, 'I shouldn't have said that'.

Hiccup thought he'd heard that name somewhere before, but he couldn't remember where. He looked at Astrid and Ragnar and they both shrugged, but they knew that if they found him, they'd get all their questions answered.

* * *

**My favorite line from this chapter was "Had she been wrong to think he had a crush on her?"**

**(The answer is no)**

**Speaking of favorites, chapter twelve happens to be mine. Why?  
**

**Oh, don't worry, you'll see next Monday.**

**In the mean time, please remember to comment, bookmark and/or leave a kudos. Remember, everyone gets credit at the end. (yes, guests, that includes you! Granted, you'll be recognized as guest #1, guest #2, and so on, but that's unfortunately the best I can do without screen-names)**


	12. The Mirror of Erised

**Twice in a row! Finally, a schedule I actually stick to!**

**And we've passed two hundred hits! Woo-hoo!**

**Sorry, I had today off, so I'm a wee bit hyper. Onto chapter twelve!**

* * *

_Chapter Twelve: The Mirror of Erised_

* * *

Snoggletog was coming. Hiccup had never understood why on Midgard they had decided to name it that, but because Vikings were never good at keeping records, the answer was lost to history.

One morning in mid-December, Berk awoke to find itself covered in several feet of snow. The lake was frozen solid, and the Hofferson twins and the Thorston twins were both punished for throwing several snowballs at Jarl the Quivering, nearly knocking his helmet off. The few Terrible Terrors who managed to battle their way through the stormy weather to deliver post had to be nursed back to health by Bucket and Mulch before they could fly off again.

Everyone was eager for the holidays to start. While the Gryffindor common room and the Great Hall had roaring fires, the drafty corridors had become icy, and bitter wind rattled the windows in the classrooms. Hiccup created flames whenever he could to help keep himself, Astrid, and Ragnar warm, but he didn’t dare try it in Asketill's classes down in the dungeons, which was a shame because it was so cold down there that their breath rose in a mist before them and they kept as close as possible to their hot cauldrons.

"I can't wait to get home for Snoggletog," Snotlout remarked loudly during their last Potions class. "It's a shame that _some_ people aren't welcomed at theirs."

He was looking right at Hiccup as he said it, a sneer on his face. Hjartán and Falskur snickered, until Astrid shot them a warning look. She then shivered from the cold and moved a little closer to Hiccup.

Hiccup, who was measuring out powdered spine of lionfish, ignored the bullies and grinned at her. Snotlout had been even more unpleasant than usual since the Dragon Racing match. He had been disgusted by his house’s loss, and boasted to anyone who would listen that he "could fly circles around that Night Fury" and that he would have caught the Snitch a lot sooner, using his hands rather than his mouth.

Not only did no one believe him, a few even told the bully that he was absolutely insane to challenge a Night Fury. So Snotlout, resentful and bitter, had gone back to taunting Hiccup about not looking like a "proper" Viking, and not having a "proper"family. He had also increased his attempts to flirt with Astrid, but Hiccup was getting better at creating diversions, helped strongly by the fact that he was no longer afraid of her catching him.

It was true that Hiccup wasn't going back to Privet Drive for Snoggletog. Phlegma had come around the week before, making a list of students who would be staying for the holidays, and Hiccup had signed up at once. He didn't feel sorry for himself at all; this would probably be the best Snoggletog he'd ever had. Even better, Astrid and her brothers were staying too, because Mr and Mrs. Hofferson were going to Romania to visit Einar.

Astrid had told him that Einar was there studying dragons in their wild habitat, and protecting them from Dragon Hunters, who were Vikings that still slayed dragons and sold their remains on the black-market.

"Kind of like poachers?" he’d asked.

"What are poachers?"

"Never mind..."

When they left the dungeons at the end of Potions, they found a large fir tree blocking the corridor ahead. They saw that Bucket and Mulch were trying to move it.

"No, no, go the other way, Bucket," Mulch instructed.

"Hey, would you dolts mind moving out of my way?!" Snotlout yelled.

He then saw Astrid and slicked his hair back. "You know you don’t have to stay here, darling; you could come and stay at my place. I can put in a good word for you to my parents, and tell them that you don't want anything to do with your weak, moneyless clan."

He was about to place a hand on her cheek when Astrid twisted it and slammed him into the wall.

Hiccup rolled his eyes. "You’d think he would learn," he muttered to Ragnar, who nodded, stifling a laugh.

"MISS HOFFERSON!"

They turned around and saw Asketill stalking down the corridor.

"She was provoked, sir," Mulch said, sticking his head out from behind the tree. "Snotlout was insulting her family."

"Even still, while some fighting is allowed in the corridors, twisting one's arm and slamming them into the wall is not," Asketill said silkily. "Forty points from Gryffindor, Hofferson, and you should be grateful that it isn't more. Move along, all of you."

Snotlout, Hjartán and Falskur smirked and pushed roughly past the tree, scattering needles everywhere.

"That boy just doesn't take a hint," Astrid grumbled as she, Hiccup and Ragnar entered the Great Hall.

The first person they saw was Gobber, who was wearing a fur helmet with reindeer antlers, and his icy prosthetic, was currently in the form of a jingle bell.

"You three need to cheer up, it's nearly Snoggletog," Gobber said, when he noticed their expressions.

"You should tell that to people like Asketill; they don't seem to get the message," Hiccup said.

"I wouldn't worry about them. Go check out the Great Hall, it looks like a treat."

Gobber was right, the Great Hall looked spectacular. Festoons of holly and mistletoe hung all around the walls. Astrid seemed reluctant to go under any of them, probably fearing that Snotlout would ambush her. There were at least twelve towering fir trees standing around the room, some sparkling with tiny icicles, some glittering with hundreds of candles.

"How many days yeh got left until yer holidays?" Gobber asked.

"We just left our last class," Ragnar said.

"Well, yeh better see the Dragon Migration before yeh leave."

The Dragon Migration was a time during the Snoggletog holidays when all the dragons flew off to an unknown location to lay their eggs, which was a good thing because dragon eggs apparently had a tendency to explode when they hatched. They would then return just as the holiday's ended with their babies, to be cared for by Madam Flyheart in the Dragon Sanctuary. Hiccup had been told by other students that it was a spectacular sight.

"Don't worry, I will," Ragnar assured the giant. "And that reminds me…Hiccup, Astrid, we've got half an hour before lunch, we should be in the library."

"Oh, yeah, you're right," Astrid said, reluctantly tearing her eyes away from Alvar the Charmer, who was creating ball of different color aura spheres and lifting them up into the air.

"Yer going to the library?" Gobber questioned, following them out of the Great Hall. "Why go just before the holidays start? Got a lot of homework, do yeh? I wouldn’t put it past Phlegma..."

"Oh, we're not working," Hiccup told him brightly. "Ever since you mentioned Flamel the Eternal, we've been trying to find out who he is. We’re awful curious, you know."

Gobber looked shocked. "You’ve been _what_? Listen, you three shouldn't concern yerselves with what that dog is guarding."

"We just want to know who Flamel the Eternal is, that's all," Ragnar said.

"You would save us all the trouble, Gobber, if you tell us," Hiccup added. "We've must have read through hundreds of books already and we can't find anything…can't you just give us a hint…I know I've read his name somewhere…"

"I'm saying nothing," Gobber said flatly.

"Then we'll find out for ourselves, then," Astrid said, and they left Gobber looking disgruntled and hurried off to the library.

They had indeed been searching books for Flamel ever since Gobber had let it slip, because how else were they going to find out what Asketill was trying to steal? The main problem was that it was difficult to know where to begin, not knowing what Flamel might have done to get himself into a book. He wasn't in Great Vikings of the twentieth Century, or Notable Magical Name of Our Time; he was missing too, from Important Modern Magical Discoveries, and A Study of Recent Developments in Viking Kind.

And then, of course, there was the sheer _size_ of the library; tens of thousands of books; thousands of shelves; hundreds of narrow rows. It wasn’t ideal for when you didn’t know what you were looking for.

Ragnar took out a list of subjects and titles he had decided to search, while Astrid strode off down a row of books and started pulling them off the shelves at random. Hiccup, on the other hand, wandered over to the Restricted Section. He had been wondering for a while if Flamel was somewhere in there. Unfortunately, a specially signed note from one of the teachers was needed to look at any of the restricted books, and he knew it’d be years before he could get one. These were the books containing powerful Dark Magic that was never taught at Berk, and were only read by older students studying advanced Combat Arts and advanced Core Magic.

Unfortunately, the librarian caught him staring. "What are you looking for, boy?" Hairy the Librarian yelled.

Hairy the Librarian was Berk's librarian, and as his name suggested, he was very, _very_ hairy. He was studying Hiccup carefully, as though he was some kind of book.

"N-nothing, sir," Hiccup lied quickly. "I was just lost in thought, that’s all."

"You'd better get out, then. Go on—out!"

Hiccup, wishing he could have thought up some story faster, left the library. He, Astrid and Ragnar had already agreed they'd better not ask Hairy where they could find Flamel. They were sure he'd be able to tell them, but they couldn't risk Asketill hearing what they were up to.

Hiccup waited outside the corridor to see if the other two had found anything, but he wasn't very hopeful. They had been looking for a fortnight, after all, but as they only had odd moments between lessons it wasn't surprising they'd found nothing. What they really needed was a nice long search without Hairy breathing down their necks.

Five minutes later, Astrid and Ragnar joined him, shaking their heads. They hurried to get outside, because the Dragon Migration was about to start.

They arrived just in time to see the all the dragons on Berk flying off to parts unknown. Hiccup tried to count them all, but there were so many that it was impossible. He saw Toothless flying off, but not before giving him a gummy smile. Sharpshot and Blood-Spatter soon joined him.

"You will keep looking while I'm away, won't you?" Ragnar asked. That got Hiccup and Astrid to turn their focus from the dragons flying overhead.

"Of course," Hiccup said.

"And you could ask your mum if she knows who Flamel is," Astrid suggested. "It'd be safe to ask her."

"Very safe—she's a dentist," Ragnar said with a laugh.

* * *

Once the holidays had started, though, Astrid and Hiccup were having far too good of a time to think much about Flamel.

They had Hiccup's dormitory all to themselves, though Askeladden kept on checking on them every hour or so to make sure they were "behaving themselves", to Astrid's embarrassment and Hiccup’s absolute horror. The common room was far emptier than usual, so they were able to get the good armchairs beside the fire. They would sit there for hours, eating whatever food they could spear on a toasting fork—bread, crumpets, marshmallows, anything they could get their hands on. Whenever he thought she wasn't looking, Hiccup couldn't help but stare at Astrid with a dreamy look on his face, thinking about how beautiful she looked with the fire's embers shining against her face.

(The moment would quickly pass when she gave him a strange look, and he had to pretend he was lost in thought. Good gods he was pathetic)

Astrid had also started teaching Hiccup how to play Viking chess. This was exactly like Muggle chess except for two things; one, the pieces were dragons and two, they were alive. It was like leading soldiers into battle. The chief was a dragon called a Bewilderbeast (the Books of Dragons said that it was a rare Alpha dragon), the chieftess was a Deadly Nadder, the Berserkers were Hideous Zipplebacks, the elders were Night Furies, the forts were Gronkles, and the soldiers were Monstrous Nightmares.

Astrid's set was very old and battered. Like everything else she owned, it had once belonged to someone else in her family—in this case, her grandfather. However, old chessdragons weren't a drawback at all. Astrid knew them so well she never had trouble getting them to do what she wanted.

Hiccup wasn't so fortunate. His pieces belonged to Fishlegs, and they didn't trust him at all. He had never played any kind of chess before, because one: he had never had a chess set, two: he had never had anyone to play against and three: the Dalvors weren’t into board games at all, since they involved thinking. Astrid insisted that he commanded them like a true leader, despite the fact that his pieces didn't always do what he wanted.

On his own, Hiccup had enlisted the help of Gobber to help him make a secret present for Astrid. He was worried that it wasn't very good, as he had deemed it rather clumsily made, but Gobber—who had been quick to forget the whole "Flamel the Eternal" incident once he saw Hiccup in action—assured him that it was fine, especially for his first try.

"She’ll love it, lad, trust me," Gobber had said.

All the same, Hiccup had used some of his money to buy her a second gift, a new copy of _Dragon Racing Through the Ages_ to replace the one Asketill had taken, just in case she didn't like her first one. Better safe than sorry, after all.

The night before Snoggletog, Hiccup fell asleep looking forward to the next day for the food and the fun, and feeling nervous about giving Astrid her gift. He didn't expect to be receiving any presents. Who would send him any?

* * *

When he woke up the next morning, Astrid was already awake and banging on the door.

"Hiccup, wake up! It's Snoggletog!" she called.

Hiccup got out of bed, and opened the door. There stood an over-exuberant Astrid.

...It _was_ Astrid, right?

Hiccup barely recognized her. She was wearing a thick, hand-knitted golden sweater with a large blue A on it, and a long gray skirt that Hiccup knew she would _never_ wear around anyone else. For once, her hair wasn't braided. It was longer than Hiccup would've thought, going about halfway down her back.

She was also carrying a pile of presents in her arms. Hiccup counted four of them; two of which being the ones from him.

"Merry Snoggletog, Hiccup!" Astrid cheered. "I figured we could open our presents together. Please, help me."

Hiccup took the pile from her and placed it on the nearest bed.

"Thanks," she said, beaming at him in a way that nearly made his heart stop. He decided that he quite liked her hair being down.

"N-no problem," he stuttered, before pointing at the jumper she was wearing. "Uh…what are you wearing?"

"Oh, this? Mum always makes a jumper for Snoggletog," Astrid explained. She looked over his shoulder and pointed. "Oh gods…it looks like you've got one, too."

Hiccup spun around and for the first time he saw the pile of presents at the foot of his bed.

"I've got presents!" he gasped, astonished.

"What did you expect, turnips?" Astrid asked.

"Actually, yes, I kind of did," Hiccup answered, before running to the pile.

He picked up the top parcel. It was wrapped in thick brown paper, and scrawled across it was To Hiccup, from Gobber. Inside was a beautifully carved wooden flute, and the end of it was carved to look like a Night Fury. Gobber had obviously made it himself. Hiccup blew it and it made a sound like beautiful song bird.

The second, very small parcel contained a note.

_We received your message and enclosed your Snoggletog present. Signed; Uncle Björn and Aunt SkaÐi._

Taped to the note was a fifty-pence piece.

"Well, that's more than last year," Hiccup said. It was true; last year he got nothing. It was probably better for the Dalvors if Astrid didn't know that, though.

Speaking of Astrid, she was fascinated by the fifty-pence piece.

"Is this Muggle money?" she asked, taking the note to look at it. "It's a weird shape."

"You can keep it if you like," Hiccup chuckled.

"Really?!"

"Sure."

Astrid took the note, looking delighted.

Hiccup picked up the very lumpy parcel Astrid had pointed to earlier. "How did your mum know to send me a present?"

"I, uh, I may or may not have let it slip in one of my letters to her that you didn't expect many presents," Astrid explained, her expression sheepish. "Besides, she wanted to say thank you for saving me from that Troll."

Hiccup opened the parcel to find a thick, hand-knitted sweater like Astrid's, only emerald green with no letter, and a large box of homemade fudge.

"I don't know what to say," Hiccup said, looking at the jumper in awe.

"Then don't and finish opening your presents."

Almost against his will, Hiccup’s gaze fell on Astrid’s small pile of presents.

"Shouldn't you open some more of yours?" he blurted out.

Astrid glanced at her pile and shrugged, picking up one wrapped in sapphire blue silk. The words _From Snotlout_ were stitched onto one side in silver thread, with _To My Darling_ written on the other.

This had the pair of them feeling very uneasy, but Hiccup prompted Astrid to open it anyways.

The gift turned out to be a beautifully crafted golden necklace, with diamonds covering every other centimeter. Each diamond was shaped like a heart, and they were enchanted to change colors. It was the most expensive thing Hiccup had ever seen in his life, and he had seen Balder be given plenty of expensive things. His heart fell into his stomach with a very painful thud.

How in the name of Thor was he supposed to compete with _that_?

Despite it being the most extravagant thing she had ever held, Astrid stared at the necklace in unspeakable disgust. "If that idiot thinks he can win me over with a stupid piece of jewelry, I might have pushed him against the wall too hard."

She dropped it and picked up a parcel wrapped in green cloth. It was the one Hiccup had made for her, which he had left unmarked so that if she didn’t like it, he could pretend it wasn’t from him.

Yes, he was a coward.

"Hm…I wonder who sent this one…" Astrid muttered. She opened it, and her eyes widened.

It was also a necklace, but this one was clearly handmade. Hiccup had forged the chain out of softened Gronckle iron, so that it was harder to break but still able to bend. He had strung it with pearls he had gone diving for a few days previous (he was surprised he hadn't caught hypothermia from that little adventure, even with his fire magic to help keep him warm) and used some of the leftover Gronckle iron to create a little Deadly Nadder pendant.

Astrid turned the pendant over, spotted the tiny inscription carved onto the back, and read it aloud;

_To my fierce Valkyrie—HHH_

"HHH…?" Astrid repeated. Then realization dawned on her, and she stared up at him in surprise. "Hiccup…Did- did you make this?"

Hiccup's face had never been redder in his entire life. "Yes. Well, Gobber _did_ help a bit…Do you like it?"

For a long moment, Astrid was silent. She stared down at the necklace clutched tightly in her hands, seemingly dumbfounded.

Hiccup's mind raced. Of course she didn't like it; it was terrible! And he _knew_ calling her his—his!—fierce Valkyrie was too much, but Gobber had goaded him into it! Oh, she was going to hate him now—

His thoughts died instantly as Astrid wrapped her arms around him.

"I love it," she told him. "Will you help me put it on?"

Relieved, Hiccup undid the clasp in the back, placed the necklace on Astrid's neck, and refastened it.

She grinned. "Thanks. Now open the rest of your presents, will you?"

Hiccup did, and the next one contained a large box of Chocolate Frogs from Ragnar.

"Ragnar gave me several boxes of Every-Flavor Beans," Astrid said when he asked her. She sat down on one of the empty beds, fiddling with her new necklace.

There was only one left, and it felt light in Hiccup's hands. When he opened it, a gray and silver cape fell out. Astrid gasped.

"I've heard of these," she said, getting up from the bed.

"What is it?"

"Put it on and find out."

Hiccup rolled his eyes, but did as he was told and threw the cape over his shoulders. When he looked at Astrid, she looked amazed.

"Now look in the mirror."

Hiccup, getting every tired of this, walked over to the mirror. When he saw nothing, he gasped in horror. The moment he removed the cape, he reappeared.

"It's an Invisibly Cape. They're supposed to be really rare and really, really valuable," Astrid said, looking down at the cape. "Who sent it?"

Then Hiccup noticed the letter that had fluttered onto the floor. It was written in narrow, loopy writing he had never seen before and read out the words on it:

_You father left this in my possession shortly before he died. It is time it was returned to you. I pray you use it wisely and with noble intent._

_Have a very Merry Snoggletog._

There was no signature. At first, he thought Gobber gave it to him, but he had already given him his present, and Hiccup knew that he didn't write in narrow, loopy writing.

"Looks like our list of questions has gotten bigger," Astrid commented, peering at the note over his shoulder.

"Yeah, like who sent this note? And did this thing _really_ belong to my dad?" Hiccup said. He stared at the Cape like it was a bomb about to go off.

Before they could say or think anything else, the dormitory door was flung open, and Double and Trouble Hofferson bounded in. They were both wearing blue jumpers, one with a large yellow D on it, the other with a large yellow T.

Hiccup shoved the Cape underneath his bed with his foot. He didn't feel like sharing it with anyone else just yet.

"Merry Snoggletog, Hiccup!" they chorused.

They then noticed that Astrid was in the dormitory with him. Hiccup could almost see their eyes zeroing in on the necklace.

"Hello, hello, hello," Double said with a sly smirk.

"What have we here?" Trouble asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I just came to wish Hiccup a happy Snoggletog," Astrid said, her face now bright red.

" _Sure_ you did," Trouble said, trying to keep a straight face.

Astrid looked both embarrassed and angered by her brothers. Hiccup decided for the twin's safety to make sure they saw the jumper their mother gave to him for a present.

"Hey, looks like you've got a Hofferson jumper, too!" They exclaimed as one.

"Hiccup's is better than ours, though," Double said, scrutinizing Hiccup's jumper. "She obviously makes more of an effort if you're not a part of the family."

"Or if you’re famous," Trouble added.

"Or if you save her only daughter from a troll, and she's starting to hope you'll fall in love with and marry said daughter."

Well that plan failed.

"Would you two like a punch in the face for your Snoggletog gifts?" Astrid asked, giving them one of her very best death glares. The fact that she was blushing didn't make it any less frightening.

The twins decided, very wisely, to change the subject.

"You haven't got a letter on yours, either," Trouble observed. "I suppose she thinks you don't forget your name from time to time. But we're not stupid—"

"Could have fooled me," Astrid muttered.

"Like I was saying," Trouble said, glaring at Astrid, "we know we're called Touble and Drouble."

"What's all this noise?"

Askeladden Hofferson stuck his head through the door, a look of disapproval on his face. He had clearly come halfway through unwrapping his own presents, as he, too, carried a lumpy jumper over his arm, which Double promptly seized.

"Get it on, Askeladden; come one, we're all wearing ours, even Hiccup's got one."

Hiccup looked at Astrid as the twins forced the jumper over Askeladden's head.

"Are they always like this?" he asked.

Astrid shrugged. "Most of the time, yes."

"And you're not sitting with the Prefects today, either," Trouble said. "Snoggletog is a time for family."

And they frog-marched Askeladden from the room, with his arms pinned to his sides by his jumper.

* * *

Hiccup had never had such a Snoggletog dinner in all of his life. It was even bigger that the Halloween Feast! There were hundreds of roast boar, mountains of chicken wings, several buckets' worth of fish, and other stuff Hiccup couldn't even describe. Stacks of Viking crackers were lined every few feet along the table. These crackers were nothing like the Muggles ones that the Dalvors usually bought, with their little plastic toys and their flimsy paper hats. Hiccup pulled a Viking cracker with Double and it didn't just bang, it went off with a canon-like blast, and it engulfed them all in a cloud of blue smoke, while from the inside exploded a helmet with four bull horns and spikes across the crown, and several live, white mice. Unsure what else to do with it, Hiccup handed the helmet to Astrid, who promptly placed it on her head and giggled when it slid over her eyes.

Up at the High Table, Alvis the Noble had swapped his normal spiky helmet for a plain one, and was chuckling merrily at a joke Alvar the Charmer had just read.

Flaming Snoggletog puddings followed the boar. Askeladden nearly broke his teeth on a silver Sickle embedded in his slice, much to the amusement of his siblings. Hiccup watched Gobber getting redder and redder in the face as he called for more ale, finally kissing Phlegma the Fierce on the cheek, who, to Hiccup's surprise, giggled and blushed, turning her back to him.

When Hiccup finally left the table, he was laden down with a stack of things out of the crackers, including a pack of non-explodable aura balloons, a grow-your-own-warts kit and his own new Viking chess set. The white mice had disappeared, and Hiccup had no idea what had happened to them.

Hiccup and the Hoffersons spent a happy afternoon having a furious snowball fight in the grounds. Then, cold, wet and gasping for breath, they returned to the fire in the Gryffindor common room, which Hiccup got the temperature of just right. He then broke in his new chess set by losing spectacularly to Astrid, who assured him that he wouldn’t have lost so badly if Askeladden hadn't tried to help him so much. For some reason, that didn't make him feel a lot better.

After a dinner of ham sandwiches, meat pies, trifle and Snoggletog cake, Hiccup and Astrid felt too full and sleepy to do much before bed except sit and watch Askeladden chasing Double and Trouble all over the common room because they'd stolen his Prefect badge.

It had been Hiccup's best Snoggletog day ever, not that he remembered ever having a good one. And yet, he was still curious about who sent him the Invisibility Cape. Even after he got into bed he couldn't help but think about the Cape, and the words _use it wisely and with noble intent._

Then he realized something. He could go anywhere around Berk, and Mildew would never even know!

He got out of his bed, draped his father's Cape around his shoulders, and crept out of the dormitory.

"Who's there?" the Fat Valkyrie squawked.

Hiccup said nothing. He walked down the corridor as fast as he could.

He headed towards the library. He was going to enter the Restricted Section to see if he can out anything about Flamel the Eternal. Thanks to the Cape, he could read as long as he liked, as long he kept the Cape on that is.

He soon entered the library, and dear _gods_ did it look creepy. Hiccup use his fire magic so he could see his way along the rows of books.

The Restricted Section was right at the back of the library. Stepping carefully over the rope which separated these books from the rest of the library, he held up the magical ball of fire to read the titles.

The problem was that the fading gold letters were spelled in a language that Hiccup couldn't understand. He guessed that it was written in Old Norse. Even worse, some had no titles at all. He also thought he heard faint whispers coming from the books, as though they knew someone was there who shouldn't be.

He then pulled out a large black and silver volume from the bottom shelf. He pulled it out with difficulty, because it was very heavy, and, balancing it on his knee, he opened it.

A piercing, blood-curdling shriek split the silence. In surprise Hiccup dropped the book and it slammed shut, but the shriek went on and on. He then heard footsteps coming down the corridor outside and ran for it. He passed Mildew almost in the doorway; Mildew's pale, wild eyes looked straight through him and Hiccup slipped under Mildew outstretched arm and streaked off up the corridor.

He came to a sudden halt in front of a tall stone statue. He had been so busy getting away from the library; he hadn't been paying attention to where he was going.

"You asked me to come directly to you, sir, if anyone was wandering around at night, and somebody's been in the library, in the Restricted Section."

Hiccup felt the blood draining from his face. He didn't know how, but Mildew had found a shortcut and was bringing someone with him. He then discovered that it was Asketill who replied.

"The Restricted Section, eh? Well, they can't be far, we can still catch them."

Hiccup just stood there frozen in fear as Mildew and Asketill came around the corner ahead. They couldn't see him, of course, but it was a narrow corridor, and if they came much nearer they'd run straight into him, and he knew that the Cape didn't stop him from being solid.

He backed away as quietly as he could. A door stood ajar to his left. It was his only hope. Luckily, his scrawny body came in handy this time, because he managed to squeeze through it and enter the room without Mildew or Asketill noticing. He leaned against the wall and heard their footsteps fade away. It was a few seconds before he noticed anything about the room he had hidden in.

The room looked like an old, unused classroom. All of the desks and chairs were piled against the walls, and there was an upturned wastepaper basket. But Hiccup noticed something else, something that didn't look like it belonged in here at all.

It was a magnificent mirror, as high as the ceiling, with an ornate gold frame, standing on two clawed feet. There was inscription carved around the top: _Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi_.

Hiccup knew he should leave while Mildew and Asketill were gone, but for some reason he was drawn towards the mirror. He removed his Cape and looked at it, and not only saw his reflection, two people standing on either side of him.

There was a huge mountain of a man with dark red hair and a matching beard, which was tied in braids, and emerald green eyes just like his. He looked down at Hiccup with a proud smile on his face.

He then noticed the woman standing on the other side of him. She was pretty, with bright blue eyes with a green tint, and auburn hair, like his, that was tied in three separate braids behind her back. Her figure was slim; in fact, she was almost like a female version of him, except for the eyes.

_You look so much like your mother, but you have your father’s eyes…_

That's when Hiccup realized who these two were.

"Mum? Dad?" he whispered, a single tear running down his cheek.

The two Haddocks smiled at him. Hiccup pressed his hand flat against the glass, trying desperately to touch them. The two Haddocks could see his pain; his father placed a huge hand on his shoulder, while his mother cried. Hiccup didn't know what to feel; joy for being able to see them, or terrible sadness because they were still gone.

He was soon brought back to his senses when he heard a distant noise. He picked up his Cape, looked at the faces of his mother and father one last time, whispered, "I'll be back tomorrow," and hurried from the room.

* * *

Next morning, at breakfast, Hiccup told Astrid about the encounter with his parents.

"You're kidding," Astrid said, staring at him like he'd just dropped from the sky.

"No, I'm serious," Hiccup said.

"I've heard about your parents, and I'd really like to meet them," Astrid said eagerly.

"And I want to see all your family, all of the Hoffersons; you'll be able to show me your brothers and everyone."

"You can see them any old time," Astrid said. "Just come round my house this summer. Anyway, I don't see how a mirror can show the dead, unless that's what it does. It’s a shame about you not finding Flamel, though." She then noticed that Hiccup wasn't eating anything. "You should eat something, even if it's a bit of bacon."

Hiccup couldn't eat. He had seen his parents and would be seeing them again tonight. They would be able to see Astrid!

He had almost forgotten about Flamel. It didn't seem very important any more. He was more concerned about the mirror and the inscription on it.

"Are you alright, Hiccup? You're acting weird," Astrid said. Then she thought about it, and added, "Well, weirder."

"Thank you for those kind words, Milady," Hiccup deadpanned, before taking a bite of his bacon.

Later that night, both Hiccup and Astrid were covered in the Invisibility Cape looking for the mirror room again. They'd tried retracing Hiccup's route from the library, but that was difficult because half the time he was running scared.

"If we don't find this place soon, we'll have to head back," Astrid said.

"No!" Hiccup hissed. "I know it's here somewhere."

Soon they found the stone statue that Hiccup came across last night.

"It's here somewhere—ah, here!"

They pushed open the door. Hiccup dropped the Cape from around his shoulders and ran to the mirror.

There they were. His mother and father beamed at the sight of them.

"See?" Hiccup whispered.

"Hiccup…I can only see you," Astrid said in a worried voice.

"Maybe you can see them from where I'm standing."

Hiccup stepped aside to let Astrid see, but he could no longer see his parents, just Astrid in her pajamas.

Astrid, though, was staring transfixed at her image.

"I don't see your family; it's only me, but I'm Head Girl! And the Dragon Racing captain! And my clothes don’t look like something my mom used to wear! I also see—" she blushed pink all the way up to her hairline and looked slightly mortified. "I, uh…also see Alvis the Noble handing me the…House Cup and the Dragon Racing Cup."

Hiccup could tell that she was lying, but he was more worried about how Astrid couldn't see his parents.

She kept looking at the mirror, even reaching out to touch something high above her head. "Do you…do you think this mirror shows the future?"

The moment those words exited her lips, she clearly regretted it.

"How can it? Both of my parents are dead."

"We…We should go before Mildew shows up." Astrid said, as she picked up the Cape.

Hiccup didn't want to go, but Astrid was right. They got under the cape and left the room.

* * *

The next morning, Hiccup was sitting in the common room, staring into the fire. He was still thinking about the mirror, and had been all night.

Astrid tried her best to distract him. "Want to play chess, Hiccup?"

"No."

"Why don't we go down and visit Gobber?"

"No…you go…"

"Hiccup, you have to stop about thinking about that mirror."

"How can I? Two days ago, I didn't even know what my parents looked like, and now I can see them every night."

"But they're not really there, and you could get into trouble for it. Please, Hiccup…"

Hiccup didn't listen to her. His mind was already made up; he was going to look at the mirror again tonight, and not even Astrid could stop him.

* * *

Later that night, he found his way more quickly than last two times. He sat in front of the mirror, looking up at his parents and watching as they waved and smiled at him.

"Back again, Hiccup?" a voice behind him asked.

Hiccup turned around and saw Alvis the Noble sitting on one of the desks by the wall. Hiccup had been so desperate to get to the mirror; he must have walked straight in and never even noticed him.

"I-I didn't see you, sir."

"Strange, how short-sighted being invisible can make you," Alvis commented lightly, and Hiccup was relieved to see that he was smiling.

"So," Alvis said, slipping off the desk to sit on the floor with Hiccup, "you, like hundreds before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised."

"I didn't know it was called that, sir."

"But I expect you've realized by now what it does?" Hiccup shook his head. "No? Then let me give you a hint. The happiest man on Midgard would only be able to see himself."

Hiccup thought. Then he said slowly, "It shows us what we want…whatever we want…"

"Yes and no," Alvis said quietly. "It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desires that we bury within our hearts. You see the writing engraved on the frame says 'I show not your face, but your heart's desire'." He then noticed Hiccup's confused face. "It's written backwards with the spaces rearranged. To someone like you, who never knew his family, the mirror would show them standing around you. Your friend Astrid Hofferson, who is the only daughter in her family and wishes to prove herself to everyone, sees herself standing with the person she cares about the most, and making her family proud right beside them."

"Who's the person she cares about the most?" Hiccup asked.

"I have a good idea, and someday she might tell you, but for now it's her secret to keep," Alvis said, and then continued. "This mirror, however, will not give us either knowledge or truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible. That's why tomorrow morning it shall find a new home, and, Hiccup, I ask you to not go looking for it again. If you ever _do_ run across it, you will now be prepared. It does not do any good to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that. Now, why don't you put that admirable Cape back on and go back to bed?"

Hiccup stood up.

"Sir, can I ask you a question?"

"You already have," Alvis chuckled. Hiccup rolled his eyes in annoyance. "But if you want, you may ask me another."

"What do you see when you look in the Mirror?"

"You're a curious lad, aren't you, Hiccup? Well, I see myself holding a pair of thick, woolen socks."

Hiccup stared at him in disbelief.

"You may think that it's strange, but no one can have enough socks," Alvis explained. "For some reason, people keep giving me books and weapons."

He then walked out of the room, leaving a confused Hiccup behind.

* * *

**It took me longer than it should have to realize that "Erised" is "Desire" spelled backwards...**

**OK! I took a look at the statistics and found out that I have three subscribers for this story and three subscribers for the entire series...And I don't know who they are. Could the people in question please inform me? I want to include you guys in the shout-out at the end.**

**Reminder that any and all suggestions are highly appreciated, and will most likely be used. Credit will always be given.**

**See you next Monday! ♥**


	13. Flamel the Eternal

**Shout-out to reviewer284 :) for their idea about the backstory of the Philosopher's Stone. Further notes about this at the end!**

* * *

_Chapter Thirteen: Flamel the Eternal_

* * *

Alvis had convinced Hiccup to not go looking for the Mirror of Erised again. For the rest of the Snoggletog holidays, the Invisibility Cape stayed folded up in the bottom of his trunk.

Hiccup wished he could forget what he'd seen in Mirror just as easily, but he couldn't. He started having terrible nightmares. Over and over again, he dreamt of his smiling parents disappearing in a flash of green light while a deep, booming laugh echoed in his head. He would awaken with a racing heart and a blinding pain in his scar.

"I guess Alvis was right; that mirror could drive you mad," Astrid said, when Hiccup told her about his dreams.

Ragnar, who returned the day before term started, held a slightly different view on things. He kept on saying how he wished he could see that mirror ("I’d like to be able to see my dad"), and he was worried about the dreams Hiccup had been having. He was also disappointed that they hadn't found out who Flamel the Eternal was.

They had almost given up hope of ever finding Flamel in a library book, even though Hiccup was sure that he had read the name _somewhere_. Once term had started, they were back to skimming through books for ten minutes during their breaks. Hiccup had even less time than the other two, because Dragon Racing practice had started again since the dragons had returned.

Eret was working the team harder than ever before. Even the endless rain that had replaced the snow couldn't dampen his spirits, though it certainly dampened theirs. The Hoffersons complained that Eret was becoming a fanatic, but Hiccup was on Eret's side, even though he wished he'd slow down a bit. After all, if they won their next match against Hufflepuff, they would have a chance to overtake Slytherin in the House Championship for the first time in seven years. Quite apart from wanting to win, Hiccup found that he had fewer nightmares when he was tired out after training. Plus, he was happy to see Toothless, even though the dragon kept regurgitating fish for him.

Then, during one particularly wet and windy practice session, the day before the match, Eret gave the team a bit of bad news. He'd just gotten very angry with the Hoffersons, who kept dive-bombing each other and pretending to fall off their Deadly Nadders.

"Will you two stop messing around?!" he yelled. "That's exactly the sort of thing that'll lose us the match! Asketill's refereeing this time, and he'll be looking for any excuse to knock points off of Gryffindor!"

Trouble really _did_ fall off Strike at these words.

"A-A-Aske-till re-refer-ereing?" he gasped, as his teeth chattered from the freezing cold water. Double had to help him get back on Strike. "When's he ever refereed a Dragon Racing match?"

Eret's voice was grim. "Ever since we got a Seeker that could potentially beat Slytherin— _that's_ when."

"He's not going to be fair; he's going to make sure we lose!" Ashe Herkson exclaimed.

"Nothing I can do," Eret said. "We've got to make sure we play a very clean game, so Asketill hasn't got an excuse to pick on us."

"It's Dragon Racing, Eret—it's not _supposed_ to be clean," Kari Bellson reminded.

"Well, it is now," Eret said. He then turned to Hiccup. "Hiccup, I know this isn't going to be easy for you, but you have to catch the Snitch as quickly as possible."

It was easy for him to say; _he_ wasn't the one that was going to be targeted by the other team.

At the end of practice, Hiccup returned to the Gryffindor common room, where he found Astrid and Ragnar playing chess. Chess was the only thing, apart from practical Combat Arts, that Ragnar lost at to Astrid.

"Don't interrupt me," Astrid said when Hiccup sat down beside her. "I need to concen—" By chance, she caught sight of his face and stopped. "...You look terrible. What's the matter now?"

"Asketill is going to be the referee in the match against Hufflepuff," Hiccup said.

There was a massive crash as the chess board fell to the floor. Astrid had shot up in surprise and knocked the board off of the table by accident.

"Don't play," she said at once.

"Say you're ill," Ragnar added.

"Pretend to break your leg."

" _Really_ break your leg."

"I can't," Hiccup sighed. "There isn't a reserve Seeker. If I back out, Gryffindor can't play at all."

At that moment Fishlegs toppled into the common room. How he had managed to climb through the portrait hole was anyone's guess, because his legs had been warped together by purple flames. Clearly he had been forced to bunny hop all the way to the common room.

Everyone fell over laughing except Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar as the boy hopped over to their table.

"H-Hiccup," he panted, "C-can you re-remove this Fire-Lock Curse?"

"Well, I haven't done it with someone else's fire magic, but I'll give it a go," Hiccup said. He closed his eyes, focused onto the fire, and snapped his fingers.

A second later, the purple flames around Fishlegs' legs disappeared. He fell to the floor, exhausted.

"Thanks for that."

"Let me guess, Snotlout?" Astrid asked.

Fishlegs nodded, looking miserable. "I met him outside the library. He said his dad had taught it to him over break, and he'd been looking for someone to practice it on."

"You should go to Phlegma and report him!" Ragnar urged.

Fishlegs shook his head.

"I don't want more trouble," he mumbled.

"You've got to stand up to him, Fishlegs!" Astrid exclaimed. "He's nothing more than a bully; I bet he'll tremble when someone stands up to him."

"But Gryffindor's are supposed to be brave, and I'm anything but," Fishlegs choked.

Hiccup felt sorry for Fishlegs, and knew exactly how he felt. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a Chocolate Fireworm, the very last one from the box Ragnar had given him for Snoggletog. He gave it to Fishlegs, who looked as though he might cry.

"Trust me, Fishlegs, I know how you feel. My cousin Balder has always picked on me, and when I got here I was scared stiff," Hiccup admitted, "but the Sorting Helmet put the pair of us in Gryffindor for a reason, and if you ask me, it's a lot better than being in Slytherin."

Fishlegs looked at him, as though not sure if to believe him or not, but he unwrapped the Fireworm.

"Thanks, Hiccup…I think I'll go to bed. You can have the card; you collect them, don't you?"

As Fishlegs walked away, Astrid stood next to Hiccup.

"He needed that," she said quietly.

"I only told him the truth," Hiccup said. He looked down at the Famous Viking card that Fishlegs' gave him.

"Alvis again," he muttered. "This was the card you gave me when we were—"

He gasped. He started at the back of the card, and then looked at Astrid and Ragnar.

" _I've found him!_ " he whispered. "I've found Flamel! I _told_ you I'd read the name somewhere before, I read it on the train coming here—listen to this: 'Alvis the Noble is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark Viking Grindelwald the Terrible in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood _and his work on alchemy with his partner, Flamel the Eternal'_!"

Ragnar jumped to his feet. He hadn't looked so excited since they won the Dragon Racing match against Slytherin.

"Stay there!" he said, and he sprinted up the stairs to the boys' dormitories. Hiccup and Astrid barely had time to exchange mystified looks before he was dashing back, an enormous old book in his arms.

"I can't believe I was so stupid!" he whispered in annoyance. "I got this out of the library weeks ago for a bit of light reading."

"This is _light_?" Astrid said. Hiccup had to agree; the book might've weighed more than he did!

"Alright, alright, heavy reading," Ragnar admitted, rolling his eyes as he opened the book.

"Never mind that, what’s in there?" Hiccup asked.

"Hopefully, the answer to some of our questions," Ragnar said, as he flicked through the pages. "Ah, here it is. Flamel the Eternal is the _only known maker of the Philosopher's Stone!_ "

Hiccup looked at Astrid, who shared his blank face, and they looked back at Ragnar.

"The what?" they said in unison.

"Honestly, don't you two _read_?" he then cleared his throat and began to read:

_The ancient study of alchemy is concerned with the making the Philosopher's Stone, a legendary substance with astonishing powers. Said to have been made with the blood of a rare dragon, the Stone will transform any metal into pure gold. It also produces the Elixir of Life, which will make the drinker immortal._

_There have been many reports of the Philosopher's Stone over the centuries, but the only Stone currently in existence belongs to Flamel the Eternal, the noted alchemist and opera-lover. Flamel, who celebrated his six hundred and sixty-fifth birthday last year, enjoys a quiet life in Devon with his wife Perenelle the Lovely (six hundred and fifty-eight)._

"See? _That’s_ what Rover is guarding! I bet Flamel asked Alvis to keep it safe for him, because they're friends and he knew someone was after it. That's why he wanted the Stone moved out of Gringotts!"

"I can't think of anyone who wouldn't want a stone that would make you gold and stops you from dying," Hiccup said.

"And it's no wonder we couldn't find Flamel, we've been looking for him in the wrong century," Astrid added.

"Or why they call him the ' _Eternal'_ ," Ragnar said.

Hiccup stood there, remembering Asketill and the upcoming match.

"I'm going to play," he said at last. They both looked at him. "I'm going to play in the Dragon Racing match. If I don't, the Slytherins will think I'm just too scared to face Asketill. I'm going to wipe the smiles off their faces when we win."

"Just as long as we're not wiping you and Toothless off the water surface," Astrid told him.

"That's not helping."

* * *

The next day, the match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff began. Hiccup knew that when they wished him good luck outside the changing room, Astrid and Ragnar were wondering whether they'd ever see him alive again. That wasn't very comforting, but it was too late to do anything about it now.

Astrid and Ragnar, meanwhile, had found a place in the stands next to Fishlegs, who couldn't understand why they looked so grim and worried, or why they brought their crystal eyes to the match. Hiccup didn't know that the two of them were going to blast Asketill off his Snafflefang, Rockbiter, if he showed even the slightest sign of wanting to harm Hiccup.

Astrid did her best to not show it, but she was more worried than anyone in the school, including Hiccup himself.

Speaking of which, back in the changing room, Eret had taken Hiccup aside.

"Alright Hiccup, I know you're nervous enough as it is, but I need you to catch the Snitch as quickly as possible. Finish the game before Asketill can favor Hufflepuff too much."

"The whole academy has shown up!" Double Hofferson exclaimed, peering out of the door. "Thor's mighty Hammer, even _Alvis_ has shown up!"

When those words passed Double's lips, Hiccup began to relax.

"Guess he heard the problem Hiccup had with Toothless last match," Trouble Hofferson mused, looking out the door as well. "Guess those cheating Slytherins won't be trying that same trick this time."

In the stands, Astrid and Ragnar noticed the anger in Asketill's face as the teams flew out of the changing rooms.

"No wonder Asketill looks so mean," Ragnar said with a faint smile. "There’s no way he’ll try to attack Hiccup while the Headmaster is watching."

Astrid nodded. "I don’t think I’ve ever seen Asketill look so mean. Our next Potions class is going to be a _nightmare_."

"It won’t matter if we win—Look! They're off!"

A moment later, Ragnar got poked in the back of the head. They turned around and saw Snotlout.

"Oh, sorry, Wicket, I didn't see you there."

Snotlout grinned broadly at Hjartán and Falskur.

"Wonder how long Useless will stay on that dragon of his?"

"Longer than you ever could," Astrid snarled, as she turned back to watch the match. Her hands reached up to curl tightly around her pendant.

Snotlout frowned at her. He had become more jealous than ever before when he returned from holiday. Not only was Astrid _not_ wearing the necklace he had bought for her, she was constantly wearing the one Hiccup had created for her. He never saw her without it these days!

Asketill had just awarded Hufflepuff three penalties because her brother Trouble had "accidentally" hit a Bludger at him. Grumbling about the unfairness, Astrid turned her sights onto Hiccup, who was flying around on Toothless like a hawk, looking for the Snitch.

"Oh, darling, why are you so interested in that fishbone? A real man is standing right here," Snotlout said, as Asketill awarded Hufflepuff another two penalties for no reason at all.

Astrid was about to try and punch him in the face, but Fishlegs took a small step forward.

"You back off, Snotlout," he squeaked.

For a split second Snotlout looked surprised. Then he smirked and let out a low whistle. "Oh, lookie here boys, Fishbrain has started to grow a backbone."

Hjartán and Falskur howled with laughter. They stopped when Astrid got to her feet and gave them a very frightening death glare.

"Back off, Snotlout, or Thor help me I'll—"

"Astrid!" Ragnar said suddenly. "Hiccup just—!"

"What is it?!"

She then noticed that Hiccup and Toothless had gone in a spectacular dive, which drew gasps and cheers from the crowd. She grinned excitedly and began to cheer for him. Ragnar stood up, and cheered as well, as Hiccup streaked towards the water like a bullet.

"How that guy destroyed the Dragon Lord, I'll never know," Snotlout butted in. "I mean, come on, look at him! He shouldn't even _be_ here with proper Vikings. His stupid parents wasted their lives—"

And with that, the award for _Idiot of the Year_ went to Snotlout Jorgenson.

Astrid's nerves had already been stretched tense with worry for Hiccup, and Snotlout's comments had pushed her past her breaking point.

Before Snotlout even knew what was happening, Astrid punched him hard in the stomach. He stumbled backwards and fell hard. Hjartán and Falskur tried to help him, but they had their own problems with Fishlegs, who had hesitantly clambered over his seat to help the girl.

Ragnar, on the other hand, was so interested in what Hiccup was doing that he didn't notice the wrestling match going on behind him.

"Come on, Hic!" Ragnar yelled.

Up in the air, Asketill turned Rockbiter just in time to see a black dragon shoot past him, missing him by mere inches. Next moment, Hiccup pulled Toothless out of the dive, his arm raised in triumph, the Dark Snitch clasped in his hand.

The stands erupted; it had to be a record, no one could ever remember the Snitch being caught so fast.

"Astrid! Look, the game's over! And I think Hiccup's broken a Berk record!" Ragnar yelled.

He turned around and saw the bruised and battered forms of Fishlegs, Snotlout, Hjartán and Falskur, all of whom were laying on the floor in a daze. Astrid was only in a slightly better shape, but she was grinning wildly.

"Great!" she said, as blood dripped freely from her nose. "That makes the cup as good as ours!"

* * *

Hiccup left the changing room alone some time later to fly Toothless back to the stables. He couldn't be any happier. He remembered being carried on the shoulders of the Gryffindor team; he remembered seeing Astrid and Ragnar cheering his name, and wondering why Astrid looked so bruised.

Hiccup lay back on Toothless's back, enjoying the sunlight.

"You did great, bud," Hiccup said, patting Toothless.

 _"You too, Hiccup,"_ The dragon crooned.

They soon reached the stables. Hiccup was about to take Toothless in when he saw someone walking swiftly down the front steps of the fort.

He turned to get a better look, but the mysterious figure was too far away. Then he noticed that it was walking as fast as possible towards Raven's Point. Hiccup instantly recognized the figure's prowling walk.

Asketill.

Hiccup looked at Toothless, who was watching Asketill as well.

"Come on, bud," Hiccup said, as he got back onto the dragon’s back, "let's see what he's up to."

Nodding, Toothless took off. They flew silently past the castle and saw Asketill enter the forest at a run. They followed.

They landed and followed him, silent as could be. The trees were so thick that it covered the place in darkness; this helped them to remain unseen thanks to Toothless's dark scales. They hid behind a bush to view Asketill without being seen.

Asketill stop there in a shadowy clearing, but he wasn't alone. Jarl was there, too. Hiccup wondered why Jarl the Quivering, of all people, would be in the scariest place on the island.

"D-don't know why you wanted t-t-to meet here of all p-places, Asketill," Jarl stuttered.

"Oh, I thought we'd keep this private," Asketill said, his voice icy. "Students aren't supposed to know about the Philosopher's Stone, after all."

This immediately got Hiccup's attention, and he leaned forward a bit. He missed what Jarl said, but he definitely heard how Asketill responded.

"Have you found out how to get past that mechanical beast of Gobber's yet?"

"B-b-but A-a-ask-e-e-till, I—"

"You don't want me as your enemy, Jarl," Asketill said, taking a step towards him and grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt. "You know perfectly well what I mean."

Then at the same time, a dragon roared in the distance, covering most of what Asketill said. "—your little obstacle. I'm waiting."

"B-but I d-d-don't—"

"Very well," Asketill cut in. "We'll have another little chat soon, when you've had time to think things over and decided where your loyalties lie."

He then released Jarl and strode out of the clearing. It was almost dark now, but Hiccup could see Jarl standing quite still, as though he was petrified.

* * *

When he finally re-entered the fort, he was met by Astrid and Ragnar. He was also met with Astrid's fist, which landed painfully on his right shoulder.

"OW! Why would you _do_ that?!" Hiccup exclaimed, rubbing his shoulder.

"Where have you _been_?" Astrid demanded. "We've been looking everywhere for you!"

"Yeah, everyone is waiting in the common room," Ragnar said, looking puzzled. "Well, everyone apart from Fishlegs; he took on Hjartán and Falskur single-handedly, so he's still in the Infirmary, but he'll be fine. Astrid, on the other hand, punched Snotlout's lights out; he'll be seeing double for at least a week."

"Never mind that now," Hiccup said. "Let's find an empty room; you guys need to hear this."

He made sure Peeves wasn't inside before shutting the door behind them, then he told them what he and Toothless saw and heard.

"So we were right, it _is_ the Philosopher's Stone, and Asketill's trying to force Jarl to help him get it. He asked if he knew how to get passed Rover…and he said something about Jarl's 'little obstacle'…I reckon there are other things guarding the stone apart from Rover, loads of magical defenses, probably, and Jarl would put up some kind of defense."

"So you mean the Stone's only safe as long as Jarl the Quivering stands up to Asketill the Harsh?" Ragnar asked in alarm.

Astrid groaned. "It'll be gone before the end of the week."

* * *

**Confession time:**

**I admit, I changed quite a bit about the idea. Originally,** **reviewer284 :) suggested that the stone be made from a rare and unhatched dragon egg. However,  over time my mind started toying with it, to the point that the only part of the actual suggestion that remained was that a rare dragon was involved. But rather than it being an unhatched egg, it was the dragon's blood, because I'm morbid like that. I completely blame Loki for putting the idea in Flamel's head, but how the young immortal-to-be got his hands on the blood is up to you guys. I will say this, though—it was _gruesome_.**

**The rare dragon (which is a hybrid, by the way) doesn't exist in the HTTYD universe, and it will likely never make an actual appearance—I've code-named it "The Wind-Rider" to avoid getting attached—but you may notice it very briefly, very subtly mentioned in one of the later books...**

***cough* It's the second one *cough***

**Confession over. Credit still goes to reviewer284 :) for being the basis of the backstory I didn't realize I needed.**

**The next two chapters are mercifully short (not short enough to justify publishing them at the same time, but short). If anyone has ideas, remember, I will be happy to try and integrate them!**

**See you next Monday!**


	14. The Fire Gem

**When I said this chapter was short, I _meant_ that it was short. And that's for two reasons:**

**Reason A: Obviously, raising a baby dragon would not be as big of a deal in this universe as it was in Harry Potter's (it's still a literal _and_ figurative pain in the butt, but it's not illegal)**

**Reason B: ...I plead the fifth until the end of the chapter.**

**Onwards!**

* * *

_Chapter Fourteen: The Fire Gem_

* * *

But remarkably, Jarl proved to be braver than the three friends originally thought. True, in the weeks that followed he _did_ seem to be getting paler and thinner, but it didn't look as though he'd cracked just yet.

Every time they passed the third-floor corridor, Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar would press their ears to the door to make sure that Rover was still growling inside. Asketill was sweeping about in his usual bad temper, which meant that the Stone was still safe. Whenever Hiccup passed Jarl these days, he gave him an encouraging sort of smile, and Astrid started telling people off for laughing at Jarl's stutter.

Ragnar, on the other hand, had more on his mind than the Stone. He had started drawing up revision timetables, and spent most of his time reading notes. Hiccup and Astrid wouldn't have minded, but he kept on advising them to do the same.

"Rag, relax, the exams are ages away," Hiccup said at last, finally getting tired of Ragnar's study habits.

"Ten weeks," Ragnar corrected. "To Flamel, that's like a second."

"But we're not over six hundred years old," Astrid reminded him, rolling her eyes. "I know the exams are important and all, but you have to try and relax a little."

"You'll be eating those words," Ragnar said as he began to read one of numerous books from the giant pile next to him.

It would seem that Ragnar was right. The teachers started to give them piles of homework that made the Thor holidays not as much fun as the Snoggletog ones.

The Thor holidays were a holiday to celebrate the Great Peace that followed a bloody war...Or at least, that's what the Muggles thought. In reality, it was a celebration of the day that Hiccup Horrendous Haddock I ended the war between Vikings and dragons.

This still didn't stop Ragnar from reciting the twelve uses of dragon's blood, or practicing combat moves. Moaning and yawing, Hiccup and Astrid spent most of their free time in the library with him, trying to get through all their extra work.

"I'm so dead," Hiccup moaned, slamming his head on the table one day, a week or so before the final exams.

"What are you talking about, Hiccup?" Astrid asked, puzzled.

"Let's face it, Astrid; I'm not as skilled as you are, and I'm not as smart as Ragnar. I'm the weak link out of the three of us."

"Uh, last time I checked, you were the youngest member on the Dragon Racing team and ride a Night Fury," Ragnar reminded him.

"And you saved me from a mountain troll," Astrid added.

"I'm hardly going to be examined on that," Hiccup said, with his hands over his face.

"But you're the one that figured that the…You Know What, was here," Ragnar said.

That put Hiccup’s concern in perspective. "Speaking of which," he said, making sure to keep his voice down so no one other than his friends would hear, "we still don't know what else besides Rover is guarding the Stone."

"Yeah, but how are we going to find out?" Astrid asked.

Hiccup thought for a moment, and an idea came to him. It was risky, it could go horribly wrong, and it might not even work.

But it was the only option he could think of.

"...I may have an idea."

* * *

Later that night, they wandered over to Gobber's workshop underneath Hiccup's invisibility cape. They had to stand close together and move very slowly in order for it to work properly. Somehow, miraculously, they managed to reach the workshop without being spotted or bumped into. Hiccup tucked his cape away and banged on the door. Seconds later, Gobber opened the door a crack and saw them.

"Oh, hello," he said. "I don't mean to be rude, but I'm in no fit state to entertain today."

With that, he slammed the door shut.

Hiccup glanced at Astrid. "No point beating around the bush, eh?"

"Nope," she agreed, grinning as she pounded her fist thrice on the door and declared "We know about the Philosopher's Stone!"

There was a pause. Hiccup thought he could hear Gobber curse under his breath as he pulled the door open again.

"…Come in," he said hesitantly, concern and annoyance clear on his face.

They entered his workshop and took a seat.

"We think Asketill is trying to steal it," Hiccup said as he sat down.

"Yer not still on about him, are yeh?" Gobber asked as he made some coffee.

"We are," Astrid said simply.

"What we would really like to know is who else is protecting the Stone," Ragnar added.

"How did you know that there were other defenses?" Gobber asked, looking amazed.

"I overheard Asketill talking to Jarl. He mentioned something about his 'little obstacle'," Hiccup explained.

"Yeh know yeh shouldn't be meddling, Hiccup," Gobber said, shaking his head as he handed each of them a cup of coffee. Hiccup tried to not roll his eyes in annoyance. "Besides, I don' know myself."

"But you _do_ know who’s helping to guard it, don’t you?" Ragnar asked as he took a sip of his coffee.

Gobber looked uncomfortable. "Er...yes, but—"

"We only wondered who’s doing the guarding, really." Astrid added, in a warm, almost flattering kind of voice that was definitely _not_ Astrid-like. "We were curious who Alvis had trusted enough to help him and Flamel, apart from you."

The words and tone may have been flattering, but Gobber wasn’t fooled.

"Yer not going to leave me alone until I tell yeh, are yeh?"

Astrid shook her head cheerfully. Gobber groaned.

" _Fine_ ; as yeh already know, Alvis borrowed Rover from me…then some o' the teachers put up some defenses…Eydis the Healing, Alvar the Charmer, Phlegma the Fierce—" he ticked them off on his fingers, "Jarl the Quivering, an' Alvis himself did something, o' course. Oh yeah, and Asketill added one."

"Asketill helped?!" The three of them yelled.

"Yes, Asketill helped. Yeh see? He’s _protecting_ the Stone, he's not about to _steal_ it."

But Hiccup knew Astrid and Ragnar were thinking the same thing as him: if Asketill had been in on protecting the Stone, it would have been easy for him to find out how the other teachers had guarded it. He probably knew everything—except for, it seemed, Jarl's obstacle, and how to get passed Rover.

"Now listen, you three, I have trouble being civil with Asketill myself, but Alvis trusts him, an' that's good enough fer me," Gobber went on.

"So you're the only one who knows how to get past Rover, aren't you, Gobber?" Hiccup asked anxiously.

"Not a soul knows except me an' Alvis," Gobber stated proudly.

"And you’d _never_  tell anyone, not even one of the other protectors?" Ragnar pressed.

Gobber looked vaguely offended. "O’ course not."

Astrid sighed. "Well, that’s something, at least."

Before Gobber could ask what she meant by that, Hiccup noticed something unusual and shiny in the forge.

"Uh, Gobber, what's that?" Hiccup asked, pointing at the forge.

Gobber glanced at what he was pointing at and went over to the forge. His icy mug then transformed into a pair of blacksmith's tongs (what happened to the coffee that had been in it, Hiccup wasn’t sure), and he put them into the forge. A moment later he pulled out a red glowing gem. Hiccup could feel a massive amount of heat coming from it. Gobber banged it on the side of the forge, and it went off.

Both Astrid and Ragnar seemed to know what it was straight away, and they gave Gobber stunned looks.

"Ah," Gobber said nervously as he walked back to the table. "That's, uh…"

"I know what that is," Ragnar said, staring at the gem in awe.

"So do I—Einar's told me all about them," Astrid said, leaning over to get a better look at it. "How did you manage to get it, Gobber? It must've cost you a fortune."

"I won it, actually," Gobber admitted. "I was down in the village las’ night, having a couple of drinks, an' I got into a game o' cards with a stranger. I think he was very eager to get rid of it, to be honest."

"Would any of you mind telling me what this thing is?" Hiccup asked, annoyed at being the only one out of the loop.

"This 'thing', as you call it, is a Fire Gem," Astrid explained, "and it’s one of the rarest magical gems in the world. You can use these things to increase the fires in your house for a lifetime, because it won't lose power until you destroy it."

"I use it to help keep the forge lit up," Gobber said, looking down at the gem. "It makes things a lot easier to forge stuff I need for my classes."

Gobber then looked towards the window. All of the color suddenly disappeared from his face, before he became red. He stormed over to the door and yanked it wide open.

"Oi, you there, get over here! What in the name of Thor do yeh think yer— _GAH!_ Why you little-—hey, give that back! Come back here!"

Hiccup saw Snotlout running away, with Gobber's Fire Gem tucked under his arm. Gobber started to chase (well, hobble, because Snotlout had stomped on his good foot) after him, so he disappeared into the Forbidden Forest.

Seething with rage, Hiccup turned to Astrid and Ragnar. Both of them were angry as well, but nowhere near as much as Hiccup's.

"Come on; we have to help him," he said, before running after Gobber. His friends quickly followed.

"What are you three doing?" Gobber asked when they caught up with him.

"We're going to help you get the gem back," Hiccup answered. Astrid and Ragnar nodded in agreement.

Gobber's eyes widened in horror, and he spoke in a harsh whisper, as though he was struggling to keep his voice down. "No, no, no! Yeh can't, yeh'll get into trouble—"

He took one look at Hiccup's determined expression and hung his head in defeat. "Oh, who am I kidding? I know that look in yer eyes, lad; Stoick used to get the same way. There'll be no changing yer mind…Alright then, you three can help, but we'll be splitting up. Ragnar, yer with me. Astrid, Hiccup, you two go together. No matter what, do _not_ split up. Now let's go!"

* * *

**Yes, you read correctly. I took out the part where they get in trouble for sneaking out and lose a bunch of points.**

**Why?**

**Because I _hated_ reading that part in the original book. Every time I re-read the Philosopher's Stone (which is a lot) I get uncomfortable and start flipping through in order to get it over with as quickly as possible. All the way back to the very first draft of this story, I promised myself that I wouldn't include them getting in trouble. I'd find another way to get them into the Forest.**

**Thirteen months later, I'm standing by that decision.**

**Speaking of decisions that I'm standing by...no, I am not going to post chapter fifteen early. That would be too much stress for my editor. Rest assured, though; it is longer than today's chapter.**

**We're almost at the end, folks! Be sure to get any and all suggestions in by March 4th—story ends on the 6th, so that will be the latest I can accept them.**

**Oh, and since it's tomorrow...Happy (early) Valentines Day, everybody! I hope it's magical for you all!**

**♥**


	15. Raven's Point

**Guess who spent her weekend working at a comic-con?**

**Yep, that's right—me! A family friend took me along as her minion for her Doctor Who store. I sold merchandise, ate dunkin donuts doughnut-holes, met someone from the Walking Dead, and heckled a few panels (one of which was completely empty). It was fun. It's also why I spent a good chunk of today sleeping, because packing everything back into the van was a pain in the butt.**

**Luckily for me, Winter Break is a thing, so I have all week off.**

**Anyways...Onto the chapter!**

* * *

_Chapter Fifteen: Raven's Point_

* * *

In hindsight, going into the Forbidden Forest without a map, a dragon, or someone who knew the place was a stupid idea.

The forest was so dark and immense that Hiccup and Astrid could barely see anything apart from a few feet in front of them, even with Hiccup creating as big of a flame as he dared to light their path. Astrid had pulled out her axe, and at Hiccup’s insistence, she held onto his free hand so that they didn't accidentally lose each other. Hiccup could tell that she too was starting to regret their rather reckless decision.

"Do you think getting caught out here would be worth using some of your fire magic to attract help?" she asked suddenly. Her face was pale, and her grip on his hand had tightened considerably.

Hiccup shook his head grimly, and gave her hand a (hopefully) reassuring squeeze. "Not by a long shot. Who knows how much trouble we would get into?"

Astrid bit her lip and stared straight ahead, refusing to look him in the eyes. "That's what I thought."

Then she froze. She looked down and lifted her foot. She had stepped in a puddle of silver-blue liquid, with the texture of old blood. Her boot was completely covered with it. "Oh gods…Please tell me this isn't…"

"Blood? I think it is," Hiccup said. He knelt down to get a closer look. "Unicorn blood, by the looks of it—It looks just like the picture from one of the books Ragnar was reading."

"But I thought Jarl said unicorns are as hard to injure as dragons?" Astrid asked, her face going even paler.

"They are," Hiccup said. "Which means that whatever harmed it is incredibly powerful, and equally dangerous. That idiot Jorgenson is going to get us killed."

"Hey, it's not like I _made_ you guys follow me," Snotlout's voice called.

Hiccup and Astrid turned around to see him stroll forward, the fire gem still tucked under his arm. He didn't seem particularly bothered by the forest.

 _"It’s probably not evil enough for him,"_ Hiccup thought scornfully.

Snotlout then caught sight of their intertwined hands, and snorted. "Trying to play hero, useless?"

He turned to Astrid and held out his hand. "You don't need to hold _his_ hand if you're scared, darling. _I’ll_ keep you safe."

Astrid snarled. "Why you little—"

Hiccup had to physically restrain Astrid so that she didn't give the bully a beating.

"Let me go, Hiccup!" she hissed, struggling. "He deserves to have his face beat in!"

Hiccup shook his head. "Astrid, we’re in the _Forbidden Forest._ Beating him up will not help us. Helheim, it might make things worse." He lowered his voice and added, "You can punch him when we get out, alright?"

Astrid stopped struggling and sighed. "...Alright. Let’s just find Gobber and Ragnar."

So Hiccup took her hand again, and they set off. Snotlout followed them, going on about how awesome he thought he was, and how he felt that his clan was the best. Amongst his rhetoric were several jabs at Astrid's family and Hiccup’s un-Vikingish appearance.

After half an hour or so, Hiccup was beginning to think about letting Astrid loose on the idiot, consequences be damned. Her family was being insulted, after all; who was he to try and stand in the way of her rage? But when they reached a small cove, the thought was driven out of his head.

The cove was beautiful. There was a small pond that shone in the moonlight, tree roots stuck out like branches among the smooth rocks, and the stars were easily visible from here. Hiccup felt inexplicably safe here, as though this place would be able to protect him.

However, that feeling quickly evaporated, because straight ahead of them was a dead unicorn. Its long, slender legs were stuck out at odd angles where it had fallen, and bright silver-blue blood seeped from its open wounds. Under normal circumstances, Hiccup would have been drawn to it and try to investigate, but before he could, a hooded figure came crawling out of the shadows and crossed the ground, like some stalking beast. Hiccup, Astrid, and Snotlout were rooted to the spot, transfixed.

The cloaked figure reached the unicorn, lowered its head over a wound in the animal's side, and began to drink its blood.

"AAAAAAAAAARGH!"

Snotlout let out a high-pitched scream and bolted. Startled, the hooded figure looked up and saw that it wasn't alone; Hiccup could see unicorn blood dripping down from its front as it scrambled to its feet.

Astrid grabbed her axe and charged at the creature, but a boulder came out of nowhere and slammed into the back of her head, knocking her unconscious. The creature then looked at Hiccup, who had rushed to Astrid's side, and came swiftly towards them.

All of a sudden, a pain like he'd never felt before pierced Hiccup’s head; it was as though his scar was being pulled apart. The only time that he had felt anything close to this was when he saw Asketill for the first time, at the sorting ceremony. He could barely see or speak, and he was in too much agony to reach for his sword.

The pain grew and grew, until it was so bad he fell to his knees. He saw the hooded figure getting closer and closer to them. He'd never felt so scared in his life, and he had a horrid feeling that they were about to die. He clung to Astrid, and the pain became so excruciating that he temporarily blacked out.

The hooded figure was just about to strike, but an arrow shot out from nowhere. It missed, but only by the width of a hair. Hiccup woke up to see that, standing on a large rock, was another hooded figure. He was holding a bow in his hands, and he looked quite deadly.

"That was merely a warning shot," the hooded figure growled, as he notched another arrow into his bow. "Leave this place, and never come back."

The hooded figure turned and disappeared in a gust of wind. Almost instantly, the pain in Hiccup's forehead melted away. He could taste blood in his mouth; had he bitten his lip by accident?

"Are you alright, young one?" the new hooded figure asked, peering at Hiccup in concern.

"Yes, thank you, but…who are you?"

"My name is Firenze," the creature said as he reached up and removed his hood.

He looked like a human, but with slightly pointed ears. He had white-blond hair and astonishingly blue eyes, like the waters surrounding the island.

"You're an elf," Hiccup said, astounded.

"Indeed, I am a wood elf," Firenze answered.

Hiccup knew what he was talking about; some of Ragnar's extra books, which he read whenever he had the time, said that there were different species of elf, like the dark elves that Jarl had talked often about in their Combat Arts classes.

Firenze looked carefully at Hiccup, his eyes lingering on the scar which stood out on Hiccup's forehead.

"You're Valka the Gentle's son, Hiccup Haddock," he said, looking at him sadly. "You look so much like her."

"Wait, you knew my mother?"

"Aye, I had the great honor of knowing her since she was around your age. She was always kind to all of creatures she met, no matter what they were, and she felt no fear in this forest," Firenze said sadly. "Her death was a true loss to your world, but Valhalla gained a wondrous treasure."

"Firenze!" a voice barked.

Hiccup looked up and saw two more elves approach them. The first one looked like the oldest, with wild red hair, and the other one was taller with black hair and looked a bit meaner. He was the one who had spoken before.

"What are you doing? Talking to a human—have you no shame?!"

"Bane, this is Valka the Gentle's son, Hiccup Haddock, and I have just saved him and his young friend from the monster that killed that unicorn," Firenze said.

The other elf walked over to the dead unicorn and looked down at it sadly.

"The innocent are always the first victims," he said. "So it has been for ages past, so it is now."

"Uh…what do you mean?" Hiccup asked.

"It has nothing to do with you, human!" Bane barked. "Stay out of it!"

"I'm afraid he cannot, Bane," the red elf said quietly. "Mars is bright tonight."

"Ronan, no—"

"He should at least know what attacked him tonight," Firenze said.

Hiccup then remembered that Astrid was still unconscious in his arms.

"Astrid here was attacked by that creature," Hiccup said, gesturing down to the unconscious girl, "and another one who was following us ran away screaming."

"That must have been the screaming girl we heard a few moments ago," Bane muttered.

"Actually…it was a boy," Hiccup said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Never mind that," Ronan said, as he walked over to them and gently lifted Astrid out of Hiccup's arms. "Firenze, enlighten our little friend of what's happened tonight while me and Bane see to this young lady."

Firenze nodded and looked at Hiccup. "Firstly, do you know what unicorn blood is used for, Hiccup Haddock?"

"No," Hiccup admitted sheepishly. He couldn't for the life of him remember what it was used for.

"Well, it is a monstrous crime to slay a unicorn. Only one who has nothing to lose, and everything to gain, would dare to do it. Drinking a unicorn’s blood will keep you alive, even if you are an inch from death, but it comes at a horrible price. For you have slain something so pure and defenseless, only to save yourself. The moment that the blood touches your lips, you will live a half-life, a cursed life."

Hiccup looked at the dead unicorn lying near the pond.

"But who would be that desperate? If you're going to be cursed forever, death's better, isn't it?" he asked.

Firenze’s smile was bittersweet. "Can you think of no one willing to take the risk?"

Hiccup looked at the wood elf, and he remembered what Gobber had once told him at the Dragon's Flame, all those months ago. 'An old friend of mine once told me to never count someone dead until you see their body right in front of your eyes'.

"Wait, you mean to tell me that that... _thing_ that killed the unicorn to drink its blood," Hiccup croaked, "was Drago Bludvist?"

"Aye; and what is worse is that monster killed the unicorn in the most sacred place in all of Berk," Firenze added, gesturing at the cove.

"What's so sacred about this cove?" Hiccup asked.

"This is the cove where you ancestor, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock I, first trained his dragon, a Night Fury." Hiccup gasped and Firenze nodded. "Yes, just like the one you ride now. Of course, back then there were a lot more of them, much more common, but still very rare. In fact, this is also where your mother found that Night Fury of yours."

Hiccup looked around the Cove, amazed, but he couldn't help but feel sad about the unicorn.

"Why would he _do_ this?" he said at last.

"Do you know what is hidden in the Berk at this very moment, Mr Haddock?"

Hiccup gasped. It was as though an iron fist had clenched his heart. "The Philosopher's Stone!"

Before Firenze could say anything else, a voice was heard.

"Hiccup, are you alright?"

Ragnar was walking towards them, with Gobber following close by. He had turned his icy prosthetic into a hook, and he was using it to hold up Snotlout. The big bully hadn’t recovered from what he’d seen—he was looking particularly pale.

"I'm fine," Hiccup said, hardly knowing what he was saying. "But something killed a unicorn and knocked out Astrid."

Ronan approached them slowly, clearly cautious of the three new humans. Astrid was still unconscious in his arms, but her forehead was wrapped with a bandage. More curious, there was also one on the lower left side of her neck. "She’ll be alright, lad. She's quite tough, like your mother."

He handed her to him, and then looked at Firenze and Bane.

"It is time that we leave," he announced, and walked out of the Cove with Bane following close behind.

"Good luck, Hiccup Haddock," Firenze said, as he lifted his hood back over his head. "The planets have been read wrongly before now, even by us wood elves. I sincerely hope that this is one of those times."

He then turned and followed Ronan and Bane, disappearing into the night.

* * *

Getting back into the castle had been an...interesting experience. Astrid had still been unconscious, so they had to move even slower under the cloak than when they left an hour or two before. Hiccup had muttered thanks to every god he could think of when they somehow managed it.

When they were back at the Gryffindor common room, and when Astrid had awoken, Hiccup told them what Firenze had said.

"You mean the Dragon Lord is out there right now, in Raven's Point?" Ragnar asked, looking aghast.

"Yes, but he's weak, he's living off the unicorns," Hiccup said, looking into the fireplace. "We had it seriously wrong. Asketill doesn't want the Stone for himself…he wants it for Drago. With the Elixir of Life, he'll be at full power."

"You don't think he'll…he’ll kill you, do you?" Astrid asked him, her tone clearly worried.

"If Firenze hadn't saved us, he already would have," Hiccup said, sitting down in the armchair beside her. It was farther from the comfort of the fire, but he found that after the night's events, he wanted to be closer to Astrid instead. "He took you down without a problem; I don't want to see what he can do when he's at full strength. The wood elves know something is coming, and from the sounds of it, it's nothing good."

"Wood elves are known for being adept at soothsaying, even though it's not a very precise branch of magic, and it’s a world known fact that they can understand dragons a lot more than we humans," Ragnar said. He frowned, as though he didn’t believe it.

"At least you know a bit more about your family," Astrid said, trying to look on the bright side.

Hiccup grunted. "That's not going to do us a whole lot of good if Drago comes back."

"Hiccup, you're forgetting that Alvis the Noble is the one person that the Dragon Lord fears," Ragnar reminded him. "As long as he's around, the Dragon Lord won't touch you."

Hiccup glared into the fireplace. He wasn't sure what this all meant, but he _was_ sure that his life had just gotten a whole lot more dangerous.

* * *

**Understatement of the entire book (possibly the series, too, but I haven't made it that far yet).**

**Over three hundred hits! Wow, I feel so loved!**

**Any suggestions must be in by March 4th, as that is the latest I can get them in. Questions will continue to be answered, so don't be afraid to ask!**

**Bye guys!**


	16. Through the Trapdoor

**We're almost there!**

* * *

_Chapter Sixteen: Through the Trapdoor_

* * *

In the years to come, Hiccup would never be able to understand how he managed to get through his exams when he half expected Drago Bludvist to come bursting through the door at any moment. Yet the days crept by slow as sludge, and there could be no doubt that Rover was still online behind the locked door.

It was swelteringly hot, especially in the large classroom where they did their written papers. They had been given special, new quills for the exams, all of which had been bewitched with an Anti-Cheating spell.

They had practical exams as well. Alvar the Charmer called them into his class one by one to see them perform a powerful bit of Core Magic. Phlegma watched them turn a mouse into a snuff-box—points were given for how pretty the snuff-box was, but taken away if it had whiskers. Asketill made them all nervous, breathing down their necks while they tried to remember how to make a Forgetfulness Potion.

Hiccup found it hard to ignore the pain in his forehead, which had been bothering him nonstop ever since his trip into Raven's Point. Fishlegs thought Hiccup had a bad case of exam nerves because Hiccup couldn't sleep, but the truth was that Hiccup kept being awoken by his old nightmare, except that they were now worse than ever, because there was a hooded figure dripping with blood in them.

Astrid and Ragnar weren't as worried about the Stone as Hiccup was, but they hadn't seen what he had. The idea of Drago Bludvist certainly scared them both, even if Astrid tried to hide it, but he didn't keep visiting them in dreams, and they were so busy with their studying they didn't have much time to fret about what Asketill or anyone else might be up to.

Their very last exam was History of Magic. One hour of answering questions about great Vikings that trained the most fearsome dragons and they'd be free, free for a whole wonderful week until their exam results came out. When the ghost of Bruadar the Sleep-inducing at last told them to put down their quills and roll up their parchment, Hiccup couldn't help cheering with the rest.

"That was a lot easier than I thought it would be," Ragnar said, as they joined the crowds flocking out into the sunny grounds. "I didn't have to learn about the 1637 Werewolf Code of Conduct or the uprising of Elfish the Eager."

"Good for you," Astrid yawned.

Hiccup and Astrid didn't enjoy it very much when Ragnar went through the exam paper after they did it, but they didn't feel like mentioning it to him, so they wandered down to the lake and flopped under a tree. Toothless joined them, clearly happy to see them both. The Hofferson twins and Lock Jordson were throwing raw fish into the lake where some wild Scauldrons and Seashockers were waiting.

"No more revisions," Astrid sighed, as she stroked Toothless's back. The dragon crooned happily. "You could look more cheerful, Hiccup. We've got a week before we find out how badly we've done, there's no need to worry yet."

"Would _you_ be cheerful if your parent's murderer was out there in Raven's Point?" Hiccup asked.

"Hiccup, we've been through this," Ragnar said patiently. "There isn’t anything to worry about."

"My scar keeps hurting—it hasn’t stopped since we left Raven's Point!" Hiccup exclaimed, rubbing his forehead. "I just wish I knew what this _means_!"

"Go to the Infirmary," Astrid suggested.

"I'm not ill," Hiccup told her. "I think it's a warning…it means danger's coming…"

She sighed. "Hiccup, you have to relax. Ragnar's right; the Stone's safe as long as Alvis the Noble's around. Anyway, we've never had any proof Asketill found out how to get past Rover. He nearly had his leg ripped off once; he's not going to try it again in a hurry."

"Yeah, the chances of Gobber letting Alvis down are about as good as Snotlout and Astrid—"

"Don't go there," Astrid growled, glaring at Ragnar, who wisely shut his mouth. She then looked back at Hiccup. "Hiccup, I'm sure it's just the exams. I woke up last night and was halfway studying defensive moves to deal with a Deadly Nadder before I remembered we'd done that one already."

"But Toothless senses something as well, don't you bud?" Hiccup said, looking at Toothless.

_"Yep, and so could Sharpshot and Blood-Spatter when I asked them. Something is already wrong."_

"Listen, I know that Gobber would never tell anyone how to get past Rover, but—" He stopped and realized something.

"What's the matter now?" Astrid said, starting to get annoyed.

Hiccup got up and ran towards Gobber's place.

"Hiccup, where are you going?" Ragnar asked, as he, Astrid and Toothless followed him.

"Don't you think it's a bit odd," Hiccup panted, as they dashed towards Gobber's forge, "that a stranger turns up with one of the rarest magical gems in the world in his pocket and found a Master Forger, like Gobber. What the chances of that? Why didn't I see it before?"

"What are you talking about?" Astrid asked, but Hiccup didn’t answer.

They soon reached Gobber's forge. Gobber hammering away on a battle axe, but he stopped when he saw them.

"Hullo," he said, smiling. "Finished yer exams?"

"Yes, and we—" Astrid started, but Hiccup cut across her.

"Never mind that, I've got to ask you something, Gobber. You know that night you won the Fire Gem? What did the stranger you were playing cards with look like?"

"Dunno," Gobber said, his tone casual, "he had a visor on his helmet. Never took it off."

He saw the three of them looked stunned (even Toothless was giving him a funny look) and raised his eyebrows.

"It's not that unusual, yeh get a lot o' funny folk in the Hog's Head—that's the pub down in the village. Even the barman hides his face. Might a bin a trader, mightn't' he? They go off to far off places and trade goods with other people, in fact I know this one who—"

"Gobber, what did you talk to him about? Did you mention Berk at all?"

"Mighta come up," Gobber said, frowning as he tried to remember. "Yeah…he asked what I did, an' I told him I was the Master Forger here…he asked what I build…so I told him…and then I can't remember too well, cause he kept buying me drinks…Let's see…yeah, then he said he had a Fire Gem an' we could play cards for it if I wanted…but he had to be sure I could handle it, he didn't want anyone to get hurt…So I told him, after building Rover, looking after a Fire Gem would be easy…"

"And did he—did he seem interested in Rover?" Hiccup asked, trying and failing to remain calm.

"Of course he was interested in Rover, lad—How many people build a giant three headed robot dog, even if yer in the trade?" Gobber said. "I told him like any forger I put an Achilles heel in everything I build. Take Rover fer example; you play him a bit o' music an' he'll go straight off to sleep—"

Hiccup glanced back at his friends, who looked back at him in absolute horror.

"I shouldn't have told yeh that," Gobber said. Then the three of ran off, leaving Toothless behind. "Hey, where're yeh going?"

They didn't speak to each other until they entered the Great Hall.

"We've got to go to Alvis," Hiccup said. "Gobber told that stranger how to get past Rover and it was either Asketill or Drago Bludvist wearing that visor—it must've been easy, once he'd got Gobber drunk."

"Good plan, but we don't know where he stays," Ragnar pointed out.

"We'll just have to—" Hiccup began, but a voice suddenly rang from the entrance to the Grand Staircase.

"What are you three doing inside?"

It was Phlegma the Fierce, looking down at them.

"We want to see Alvis the Noble," Astrid said, rather bravely, Hiccup and Ragnar thought.

"See Alvis the Noble?" Phlegma repeated, as though this was a very fishy thing to want to do. "Why?"

"It's complicated," Hiccup said. It wasn't a total lie, after all.

"Well, I'm afraid that Alvis left ten minutes ago," Phlegma said. "He received an urgent Terrible Terror from the Dragon Ministry and flew off on his dragon to London at once."

"He's _gone_?" Hiccup asked frantically.

"Yes, 'he's _gone_ ' and may I ask what's more important than the Dragon Ministry, Hiccup?"

Hiccup decided that he'd better tell her the truth. "It's about the Philosopher's Stone."

Whatever Phlegma had expected, it probably wasn't that. She stared at them, like they had grown an extra head or something.

"How do you know—?" she spluttered.

"We believe that someone is trying to steal it."

"I don't know how on Midgard you know about the Stone, but rest assured, no one can possibly steal it, it's too well protected."

"But ma'am—"

"Hiccup, I know what I'm talking about," she said shortly. "I suggested you all go back outside and enjoy the sunshine."

They just stood there, not moving an inch.

"It's tonight," Hiccup said, once he was sure Phlegma was out of earshot. "Asketill's going through the trapdoor tonight. He's knows everything he needs to know and I will bet you anything that he was the one that sent that note to Alvis."

Astrid nodded. "Fudge’ll get a real shock when Alvis turns up. I just hope he’ll get back before—"

"Good afternoon," a voice said behind them.

The three of them spun around to see Asketill standing behind them.

"You shouldn't be inside on a day like this," he said, an oddly twisted smile on his face.

"We were—" Hiccup began, not knowing what he was going to say.

"You’ll want to be more careful," Asketill said. "Hanging around like this, people will think you're up to something. And Gryffindor really can't afford to lose any points, now can they?"

They turned to go back outside, but Asketill called them back.

"Be warned, Haddock—any more night-time wanderings, any at all, and I will personally make sure that the three of you are expelled. Never mind what Alvis thinks. Good day to you."

None of them wanted to know how he knew about that.

When they got outside, they saw Toothless standing around the stone steps. He didn't look very happy with them.

"I'm sorry, bud," Hiccup said, as he gave Toothless an apologetic pat on the head, "I had something important to do...I still do."

"Guess we can say goodbye to the Stone," Ragnar said.

"No, I'm going to go to the third floor tonight and I'm going to try and get to the Stone first."

"YOU’RE GOING TO _WHAT_!?" Astrid and Ragnar shouted.

"You can't," Ragnar said.

"You'll get expelled!"

"I DON'T CARE!" Hiccup practically roared, causing his friends to freeze in surprise. "If I don't try to stop this, Drago will be back at full strength! I lost my family to him, and I'm not letting anyone else feel the same way I did. Right now getting expelled isn't important! Winning the House Cup isn't important! But what _is_ important is stopping Asketill before he gives the Stone to Drago!"

"But you could get killed!" Ragnar said.

"I'm a _Viking_ , Rag; it's an occupational hazard."

He didn’t know where that saying came from, but it felt right.

For a moment, no one said anything. Then Astrid sighed.

"I'm guessing we're going to use the Invisibility Cape, then?" she asked.

"Of course—wait, what?"

"You think you're doing this alone?" Ragnar asked.

"You guys don't have to this," Hiccup said.

"How do you think you'd get to the Stone without us?"

Toothless then nuzzled up to Hiccup. _"Agreed; you're not doing this alone."_

"Toothless, not you too!" Hiccup exclaimed.

"Well, a Night Fury would come in very handy," Astrid said, grinning.

"But we can't get him in the castle; it's against academy rules," Hiccup reminded.

"You act like we aren’t already breaking any…"

"We could open one of the windows on the third-floor," Ragnar suggested.

Hiccup looked at the three of them and sighed.

"I can't talk you guys out of it, can I?" he asked.

Astrid and Ragnar just looked at each other and smiled.

* * *

Later that night, Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar crept out of their dormitories, carrying the Invisibility Cape and their weapons in their arms.

They were about to go through the portrait hole when they heard a voice behind them.

"What are you guys doing?"

They looked around and saw Fishlegs appear from behind an armchair. He was clutching his Terrible Terror Iggy, who looked as though he'd been making another bid for freedom.

"Nothing, Fishlegs, nothing," Hiccup said, hurriedly putting the Cape behind his back.

Fishlegs stared at their guilty faces.

"You're going out," he accused.

Hiccup cast a nervous glance at the grandfather clock by the portrait hole. They couldn't afford to waste time any more time; even now, Asketill might be playing Rover to sleep.

"You can't go out," Fishlegs said, "You'll be caught. Gryffindor will get into trouble."

"You don't understand," Hiccup said, "this is important."

But Fishlegs was clearly steeling himself to do something desperate.

"I won't let you do it," he said, putting his fists up. "I'll—I'll fight you!"

"Fishlegs, please, you don’t know what you’re doing," Ragnar tired to plead.

Fishlegs didn’t budge. With a sigh, Astrid took a step forward.

"I am _so_ sorry about this," she whispered, and she did indeed look guilty as she held up her axe.

Before anyone knew it, she shot a lightning bolt at Fishlegs, which knocked him out cold.

"I gave him small charge; he'll be out for hours," Astrid said.

Hiccup and Ragnar stared at her and then back at each other.

"Sorry, Legs," Ragnar muttered, as he walked out the portrait hole.

"It's for your own good," Hiccup added, following Ragnar.

"I'll make it up to you," Astrid promised, following Hiccup and Ragnar out of the portrait hole.

Somehow the three of them were able to fit under the Cape with their weapons drawn, and they slowly made their way to the third floor. They were doing fine until they came across Peeves, who was floating around the staircase to the third floor.

"Who's there?" he asked suddenly, as they climbed towards him. He narrowed his wicked black eyes. "Know you're there, even if I can't see you. Are you ghoulie or ghostie or wee student beastie?"

He rose up in the air and floated there, squinting at them.

"Should call Mildew, I should, if something's a-creeping around unseen."

Hiccup then got an idea.

"Peeves," he said, doing his best Bloody Viking impression, "the Bloody Viking has his own reasons for being invisible."

Peeves almost fell out of the air in shock. He caught himself in time and hovered about a foot off of the stairs.

"So sorry, your bloodiness, Mr Viking, sir," he said greasily. "My mistake, my mistake—I didn't see you—of course I didn't see you, you're _invisible_ —"

"Just leave, alright?! I have business here," Hiccup croaked. "And I had better not see you here again tonight."

"I'll stay away, sir, I most certainly will," Peeves said, rising up in the air again. "I’ll never mention this again. Hope your business goes well, sir. I'll not bother you."

And he scooted off.

"I didn't know you could do impressions," Astrid whispered.

"It's handy to get away from my cousin whenever I'm hiding from him," Hiccup said.

A few seconds later, they were there, right outside the third-floor corridor.

"Alright, I'll go and let Toothless in," Hiccup explained, as he carefully removed himself from the Cape, "you two stand guard."

Hiccup then entered one of the nearby classrooms. Astrid and Ragnar quickly noticed that the door was already ajar.

"Hiccup was right," Ragnar said quietly. "Asketill's already gotten past Rover."

Then Hiccup exited out of the classroom with Toothless behind him.

"I see Asketill has already gotten past Rover," Hiccup said, as he too noticed the open door.

Hiccup couldn't see them, but he guessed where they were and looked at them.

"If you want to go back, I won't blame you," he said. "You can take the Cape, Toothless and I won't need it now."

"I'm not turning my back on my friend," Ragnar said firmly.

"And if you think you can scare me out of doing this, you clearly don’t know me very well," Astrid added.

They removed the Cape and followed Hiccup and Toothless into the room. As they did so, low, rumbling growls met their ears. All three of the robotic dog's noses sniffed madly in their direction. When it saw them, it growled and prepared to attack.

Before it could, however, Hiccup pulled out Gobber's flute and began to blow it. It wasn't really a tune, but from the first note the robot's eyes began to droop. Hiccup hardly drew breath. Slowly, the robots growls ceased—it tottered on its paws and fell to its knees, then slumped to the ground, fast asleep.

"Look at this," Ragnar said, picking up a harp. "Asketill must have left it there."

"Keep playing," Astrid warned Hiccup as they crept towards the trapdoor. They could feel the robot's hot, oily breath as they approached the giant heads.

"I think we'll be able to pull the door open," Astrid said, peering over the robot's back. "I'll go first."

Astrid very carefully stepped over the robot's legs. She bent down and pulled on the ring of the trapdoor, which swung up and open easily.

"Can you see anything?" Ragnar asked.

"Nope, nothing," Astrid said. "There's no way of climbing down; we'll just have to drop."

Hiccup, who was still playing the flute, waved at Astrid to get her attention. He pointed at himself.

"You want to go first? Are you sure?" Astrid asked.

Hiccup nodded, which was incredibly difficult to do while playing an instrument.

"In that case, you better give the flute to Ragnar so he can keep Rover here asleep."

Hiccup handed the flute over to Ragnar. In the few seconds' silences, the robot dog growled and twitched, but the moment Ragnar began to play, it fell back into its deep sleep.

Hiccup climbed over it and looked down through the trapdoor. Astrid was right, the bottom was nowhere in sight.

Before he jumped, Astrid grabbed his arm.

"You know, I don't mind going first," she said, looking worried.

"I know, but I'm the one who got you into this in the first place, so I might as well be the one that goes first," Hiccup said, and he lowered himself through the hole until he was hanging on by his fingertips. "If anything happens to me, _do not_ _follow_. Go straight to the stables and send Sharpshot or Blood-Spatter to Alvis, got it?"

Astrid gulped and nodded. "Y-yeah, I’ve got it."

Hiccup smiled. "Good. Well, here goes nothing…"

And he let go.

Now, after flying on Toothless, Hiccup was no longer afraid of falling. If anything, it had started to become a neat trick. No, it was the _landing_ part that he was afraid of, especially when he had no idea what would catch him.

But to his surprise, he landed on something soft. He sat up and felt around, his eyes not used to the dark. He wasn't sure, but it felt as though he was on some kind of plant.

"Hiccup, are you alright?!" Astrid's voice cried out.

"I'm fine!" he called up. "It's a soft landing, you can jump!"

Astrid followed straight away. She landed, sprawled out next to Hiccup.

"What is this stuff?" she asked.

"Dunno, but at least we're not dead. Ragnar! Toothless! Come on down!"

The music stopped and they heard a loud bark from the robot dog above, but Ragnar and Toothless had already jumped. They landed on Hiccup's other side.

"We must be miles under the mountain," Ragnar said.

"Lucky this plant thing's here, then," Astrid said.

Hiccup then saw something move.

"Uh, Toothless, can you give us some light?" Hiccup asked.

Toothless fired a plasma blast into the air. The quick flash revealed what he had feared; the plant was moving. It seemed to have retreated a bit from Toothless' plasma blast, but when the light vanished it attacked them.

Before they could grab their weapons, the plants wrapped around them prevent them from moving; it even wrapped around Toothless' mouth to prevent him from firing any more plasma blasts.

"What the Helheim?!" Astrid yelled, trying to get free.

"Stop moving!" Ragnar ordered. "It's a nasty plant called Hel's Snare!"

"Then what do you suggest we do?!" Astrid demanded, trying to stop the plant from curling around her neck like a noose.

"I'm trying to remember how to kill it!" Ragnar said.

"Think faster, it's getting hard to breathe," Hiccup gasped, trying to get free.

"Hel's Snare, Hel's Snare…What did Eydis say? It likes the dark and the damp. A fire could help, but we don't have any wood!"

"Oh, for the love of—I've got it!" Hiccup yelled.

He then lit himself on fire, and the planet loosened its grip on them as it cringed away from the light and warmth. Wriggling and flailing, it unraveled itself from their bodies and they were able to pull free.

"Good thing you pay attention in Herbology, Rag," Hiccup said as they climbed onto the damp wall.

"Yeah," Astrid added grumpily, "and lucky _Hiccup_ doesn't lose his head in a crisis. "We don’t have any wood"—What in Odin’s name is wrong with you?"

Ragnar rolled his eyes. "I’m a _Muggleborn_ , Astrid, I’m still new to magic."

Hiccup, meanwhile, couldn't help but blush at Astrid's words.

He then noticed a stone passageway which was the only way on.

"This way," he said, and led them down the passageway.

All they could hear apart from their footsteps was the gentle drip of water trickling down the walls. Hiccup had created a fireball in the palm of his hand so they could see where they were going. Toothless then pricked his head up like he could sense something.

"Do you sense something, bud?" Hiccup asked.

Toothless nodded.

"He's not the only one," Astrid said. "I can hear something."

Hiccup listened. A soft rustling and clinking seemed to be coming from up ahead.

"It sounds like wings beating," Ragnar observed.

"There's a light ahead," Hiccup said, "and I can see something moving."

They reached the end of the passageway and saw before them a brilliantly lit chamber, its ceiling arching high above them. Hiccup was right, something was moving around. They looked like small, jewel-bright birds, fluttering and tumbling all around the room. On the opposite side of the chamber was a heavy, wooden door.

"I've got a feeling that those things will attack us if we cross the room," Astrid said.

"I have the same feeling," Hiccup said, "but we won't reach the top just standing here. I'll go; you three cover me."

Astrid and Ragnar nodded and pulled out their weapons. Toothless, on the other hand, didn't show any sign that he was going to help, which didn't make Hiccup feel any better.

Hiccup took a deep breath, pulled his sword out and sprinted across the room. He expected the birds to attack, but they didn't move an inch. He reached the door with ease and pulled on the handle, but it was locked.

After seeing there was no threat, Astrid, Ragnar and Toothless joined him. The three humans pulled on the door, but it wouldn't budge. Toothless fired a plasma blast at it, but nothing happened. Astrid even tried kicking it open, only ending up with an injured leg.

"Any ideas on how to get this door open?" Astrid asked, as she rubbed her sore leg.

"Wait…those aren't birds…they're _keys_ ," Ragnar said.

Hiccup looked up and looked at the birds soaring overhead, glittering.

... _Glittering?_

Ragnar was right; they were indeed keys, but with wings made of solid light.

"How is that even possible?" Astrid asked.

"Alvar told me that a person with aura Core Magic can create solid aura forms," Ragnar explained.

"Guess I'll have to fly Toothless up there," Hiccup said, as he got onto Toothless' back.

"But there are _hundreds_ of them up there!" Ragnar exclaimed. "It could take years!"

Astrid examined the lock on the door.

"We're looking for a big old-fashioned one—probably silver, like the handle."

Hiccup looked up. He had a knack for spotting things other people didn't; he wasn't the youngest Seeker in a century for nothing, after all. He noticed a large silver key that had one of its blue wings bent, as if it had already been caught and stuffed roughly into the keyhole.

"That one!" he called to the others. "It's the one with the broken wing."

He then looked down at Toothless, who was raring to go.

"Let's do this, bud," he said.

Toothless took off, and they began to chase after the key, but the moment they were off the ground the other keys attacked them.

"That complicates things a bit," Ragnar said with a wince.

Somehow, Hiccup and Toothless managed to give chase to the blue-winged key. It wasn't easy, what with the keys flying around trying to make them crash. Toothless fired several plasma blasts, scaring some of them off, but more kept on attacking.

They soon managed to exit the swarm, and Hiccup managed grabbed the blue winged key. They then flew down with the other keys chasing after them and soar over Astrid and Ragnar.

"Watch it!" he yelled, throwing the key to them.

Astrid caught it and began to try getting the door open. Hiccup and Toothless had to fly around trying to stay ahead of the swarm as they tried to open the door, but finally they got the door open and ran into the next chamber. Hiccup and Toothless flew in after them and they quickly shut the door. They heard a lot of banging against the door as the swarm of keys slammed into it.

"You alright, bud?" Hiccup asked breathlessly, getting off of Toothless.

Toothless looked a bit breathless as well, and couldn't speak, but he managed to nod.

They looked around the chamber, but it was so dark they couldn't see a thing. But as they stepped into it, light suddenly flooded the room to reveal an astonishing sight.

They were standing on the edge of a huge chessboard, behind the black chessdragons, which were all taller than they were and carved from what looked like black stone. Facing them, way across the chamber, were the white pieces.

"Looks like we've got to play across the room," Astrid said.

She was right; behind the white pieces they could see another door.

"Okay, but how do we play?" Ragnar asked.

"Well, if this is a battlefield, I guess we have to take part in it."

She then walked over the chieftess and reached out to touch the dragon. At once, the stone sprang to life. The Deadly Nadder looked down at her curiously.

"Do we—uh—have to join you to get across?"

The Deadly Nadder nodded. Astrid turned to the other two.

"Listen guys, not to offend you, but since I'm better at Viking chess—"

"You should be in charge," Hiccup finished. Blushing, Astrid nodded.

"Just tell us what to do," Ragnar said.

"Okay, Hiccup you and Toothless take the place of elder, and Ragnar you go next to him instead of the fort," Astrid said.

"What about you?" Hiccup asked.

"I'll be the chieftess," Astrid answered.

The chessdragons seemed to have been listening, because at those words the chieftess, an elder and a fort turned their backs on the white pieces and walked off the board, leaving three empty squares which Hiccup, Toothless, Astrid and Ragnar took.

"Okay, now what?" Ragnar asked.

"Well, whites go first," Astrid said, "and the game begins."

Sure enough, one of the white soldiers moved two squares forward.

Astrid started to direct the black pieces. They moved silently wherever she sent them. Hiccup looked at the game carefully, trying to guess Astrid's battle strategy.

"Hiccup, you and Toothless diagonally four squares to the right."

Their first real shock came from when one of their Berserkers was taken. The white chieftess took a large bit out of them and tossed it off the board; where they lay quite still, face down.

"Had to let that happen," Astrid admitted, looking confident, if not a bit shaken. "Leaves you to free to take that elder, Ragnar, go on."

Every time one of their dragons lost, the white pieces showed no mercy. Soon there was a huddle of limp black dragons slumped along the wall. Twice, Astrid only just noticed in time that Hiccup and Ragnar were in danger. She herself darted around the board, taking almost as many white pieces as they had lost black ones.

Hiccup looked at the board again, noticing the positions on the pieces, and with a jolt he realized what Astrid was planning.

"Wait a minute!" he called; his heart felt as though it had been gripped with ice.

Astrid looked at Hiccup, and seemed to know from his face that he was aware of what she was planning.

Ragnar looked between them, evidently confused. "What’s wrong?"

"Once I make my move, the chieftess will take me, and then it'll be up to Hiccup to check the chief."

"Astrid, please, don't do it!" Hiccup cried.

"We'll find another way!" Ragnar yelled.

"Do you want stop Asketill or not?!" Astrid snapped. "Every second we waste gets him closer to the Stone! Hiccup, you know that, and I also know you'd do the same thing in my position."

Astrid looked towards the chieftess and took a deep breath. Before they could stop her, she stepped forward onto the square she wanted to be on.

"Check!" she yelled.

The white chieftess then moved and once she was in position, she slammed into her with her tail. Astrid was thrown off the board.

"Astrid!"

Hiccup made sure her sacrifice wasn't in vain, and he and Toothless moved three spaces to the left towards the white chief.

"Checkmate!" Hiccup yelled.

The Bewilderbeast looked down at him and bowed. It almost looked apologetic.

They all ran towards Astrid to see if she was alright.

"She's just knocked out," Ragnar observed, seemingly relieved.

"Then we'll leave her here," Hiccup said dully, looking down at her peaceful face. If he hadn't seen her being attacked, he might have thought she was merely asleep, and would awaken if he shook her hard enough.

"But—"

"It's what she would have wanted," Hiccup muttered, his heart feeling heavy.

In truth, he was more worried about Astrid than Ragnar, and he wanted more than anything to stay with her, but he knew if he did, she would never forgive him.

He, Ragnar and Toothless reluctantly walked through the door to the next passageway.

"Okay, Eydis must have put that Hel's Snare up, Alvar must've created those wings on the keys, and Phlegma transfigured the chessdragons to make them alive," Ragnar said, counting them off on his fingers," so, that leaves Jarl's obstacle and Asketill's…"

They had reached another door.

"You ready?" Hiccup whispered.

"As ready as I'm going to be," Ragnar responded.

Hiccup pushed the door open.

A disgusting smell filled their nostrils almost immediately, making both of them cover their noses. Poor Toothless had no choice but to smell the horrible stench. All of their eyes were watering and then they saw it, flat on the floor in front of them; a troll even larger than the one they had tackled, out cold with a bloody lump in its head.

"Good thing we don't have to fight that thing," Ragnar whispered, as they stepped carefully over one of its massive legs.

"Let's go, I can't breathe," Hiccup said.

 _"I second the notion,"_ Toothless croaked.

Hiccup pulled open the next door, all of them smelling the clean fresh air. They looked an around the chamber, but it wasn't what they expected. There was nothing, but a table with seven bottles standing on it in a line.

"Not quite what I expected," Hiccup said.

They stepped over the threshold and immediately, a bright purple fire sprang up behind them in the doorway. At the same instant, black flames shot up in the doorway leading onwards.

They were trapped.

"I don't think I can absorb these flames," Hiccup said, studying them carefully.

"Look at this," Ragnar seized a roll of paper lying next to the bottles. Hiccup looked over his shoulder to read it:

_Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,_

_Two of us will help you, whichever you would find,_

_One among us seven will let you move ahead,_

_Another will transport the drinker back instead,_

_Two among our number hold nettle wine,_

_Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line._

_Choose, unless you wish to stay here for forevermore,_

_To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:_

_First, however slyly the poison tries to hide,_

_You will always find some nettle wine's left side;_

_Second, different are those who stand at either end,_

_But if you would move onwards, neither is your friend;_

_Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,_

_Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;_

_Fourth, the second left and the second on the right_

_Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight._

Hiccup and Ragnar looked at each other, and they knew from each other’s faces what this was about.

"Trust Asketill to set up a logic puzzle instead of a spell," Hiccup scoffed.

"Yeah, Vikings aren't exactly known for their smarts; they'd be stuck in here forever," Ragnar said.

"And unless we figure this out, we'll be too."

"I wouldn’t be so pessimistic," Ragnar said, looking confident. "After all, everything we need is here on this paper. Seven bottles: three are poison; two are wine; one will get us safely through the black fire and one will get us back through the purple."

"Can you solve this puzzle?" Hiccup asked.

"In two shakes of a dragon's tail," Ragnar said.

He then began to read the paper several times. Then he walked up and down the line of bottles, muttering to himself and pointing at them.

"Got it," he said at last. "The smallest bottle will get us through the black fire—towards the Stone."

Hiccup looked at the tiny bottle.

"There's only enough for one of us," he said. He then looked at Ragnar. "Which one will get us back through the purple flames?"

Ragnar pointed at a round bottle at the right end of the line. "And since Toothless is a dragon, he'll pass through the flames with ease."

"In that case, you drink it and get back to get Astrid. Take Toothless with you and you'll fly out of the trapdoor and past Rover—go straight to the stables and send Sharpshot or Blood-Spatter to Alvis, we need him. Meanwhile, I'll try and stall Asketill until you return with Alvis."

"But you might need Toothless more if you're going to fight Asketill, he might have the Dragon Lord with him."

Toothless nudged Hiccup, telling him he wanted to go with him.

"I know, bud," Hiccup said, kneeling down to look at him, "but Ragnar needs you to carry Astrid and to get out of here."

He then looked up at Ragnar, who had his arms crossed, and he seemed to know that he couldn't talk Hiccup out of it.

"Hiccup, you're a great Viking, you know," he said.

"I'm not as good as you and Astrid," Hiccup said.

"Me! Books! And cleverness!" Ragnar exclaimed. "Astrid! Skill! And faked fearlessness! There are more important things—friendship and bravery, and you are the bravest, most stubborn person I've ever met."

They both drank their chosen bottles. Hiccup shuddered; it felt as though ice was flooding his body.

They then walked up to the flames; both Ragnar and Toothless gave Hiccup on last look.

"Good luck," Ragnar said, before he and Toothless walked through the purple flames.

"I’ll need it," he said and took one big step through the black flames.

He didn't feel the flames at all, and saw he was in the last chamber. He looked around and saw that somebody was already there.

But it wasn't Asketill.

It wasn't even Drago Bludvist.

It was Jarl the Quivering.

* * *

**dun Dun DUN!**

**First time I read the Philosopher's stone, that twist blew my mind. Now I feel like an idiot for not realizing it sooner.**

**(Granted I was like eight or nine when I read it, but still!)**

**Last call for suggestions! No more will be taken after March 4th...for _this_ story, at least. If you've already got suggestions for "Book Two: The Chamber of Secrets", I'll be happy to hear them. Credit is always given.**

**Well that's all I have to say for now.** **The ending's almost here...I can hardly wait.**


	17. The Man With Two Faces

**We've reached 400 hits! Just in time for the last chapter!**

**A quick recap, for those who forgot where we left off:**

_**"Good luck," Ragnar said, before he and Toothless walked through the purple flames.** _

_**"I'll need it," he [Hiccup] said and took one big step through the black flames.** _

_**He didn't feel the flames at all, and saw he was in the last chamber. He looked around and saw that somebody was already there.** _

_**But it wasn't Asketill.** _

_**It wasn't even Drago Bludvist.** _

_**It was Jarl the Quivering.** _

**And now, I present to you, the final chapter of Book One: The Philosopher's Stone.**

**Ready?**

**Set?**

**Go.**

* * *

  _Chapter Seventeen: The Man With Two Faces_

* * *

Hiccup couldn't believe his eyes.

" _You?!"_ he gasped.

Jarl smiled. For once, his face wasn't twitching at all.

"Me," he said calmly. "I wondered if I'd be seeing you, Haddock, and I must admit that I'm impressed. Though I doubt you could have made it here on your own."

"But I thought—Asketill—"

Jarl laughed. It wasn't his usual quivering treble, either, but a cold and sharp noise that made Hiccup’s ears hurt. "Yes, he does seem the type, doesn't he? So useful to have him swooping around like a surly overgrown bat. Next to him, who would ever suspect p-p-poor st-stuttering J-Jarl the Q-quivering?"

He laughed again. It was then that Hiccup remembered that Jarl had been in Diagon Alley the day Gringotts was broken into. How could he have been so _stupid_?

"This don’t make any sense! During the Dragon Racing match against Slytherin, Asketill was trying to kill me!"

"No, no, no. _I_ was trying to kill you. And believe me, if your sweet little Astrid hadn't set Asketill’s helmet on fire and caused him to break my eye contact, I would have succeeded. Even with him muttering his little counter-curse, trying to save you."

As if this conversation hadn't been bewildering enough, now there was _that_ added piece of information

"Asketill was trying to _save_ me?"

"Of course," Jarl said coolly. "Why do you think he wanted to referee your next match? He was trying to make sure I didn't do it again. He needn't have bothered, not with Alvis the Noble watching. All he did was make himself unpopular with the other teachers…they thought he was trying to stop Gryffindor from winning. It would seem that he and your lover wasted their time and effort, when I can kill you right here and now."

Jarl snapped his fingers. In an instant, Hiccup found himself trapped in place by some kind of earth dome. He tried to reach for his sword, but his arms were stuck in place.

"You’re simply too dangerous, too curious. Scurrying around the academy at Halloween like that, I was worried you saw me coming to look at what was guarding the Stone."

"I take it then that _you_ let the troll in?" Hiccup asked, as he tried to break free.

"Indeed. I have a special gift with trolls—you must have seen what I did to the one in the chamber back there? Too easy. But unfortunately, while everyone else was running around looking for it, Asketill had already guessed what I was planning, and ran to the third floor to head me off. And to make matters worse, not only did my troll fail to beat you or the girl to death, the blasted three-headed robotic dog didn't even managed to bite Asketill's leg off properly! Now wait quietly, Haddock. I need to examine this intriguing mirror..."

It was then that Hiccup noticed what was standing behind Jarl—the Mirror of Erised.

"This mirror is the key to finding the Stone, I know it," Jarl murmured, tapping his way around the frame. "Trust Alvis to come up with something like this, thinks he’s so clever…but he's in London…and I'll be far away by the time he gets back…"

All Hiccup could think of doing was to keep Jarl talking, and stop him from concentrating on the mirror, until Alvis returned.

"I don't understand! How did you manage to get the key without a dragon to reach it?"

"A dragon wasn’t necessary. I used a simple bit of wind magic to pull it towards me. You may not know this, but a powerful Viking or Valkyrie can master more than one branch of Core Magic," Jarl said, as he walked around the Mirror to look at the back. "Alvis himself has mastered five branches of Core Magic."

"That still doesn't answer the question why you don't have a dragon."

"Oh, dragons won't trust me anymore. It is the price I paid for my knowledge," Jarl admitted, somewhat saddened. "Shame you left your Night Fury behind, boy; he could have helped you."

"I don’t need a dragon to deal with you," Hiccup said, trying to sound confident. Unsurprisingly, Jarl didn't seem impressed. "I find it funny that you're all brave now. You looked so nervous in Raven's Point, when Asketill asked about 'your little obstacle'."

"Oh, you heard that, did you?" Jarl asked idly, as he came back from behind the Mirror. "He was onto me by that time, trying to find out how far I'd got. He suspected me all along. Tried to frighten me—Ha! As though he could have, when I had the great Drago Bludvist on my side…"

He then stared into the mirror hungrily, rather like what Hiccup had to assume he had looked like when he had first discovered the mirror.

"I can see the Stone…I am presenting it to my master…but _where is it?"_

"Things not going as planned?" Hiccup smirked.

"You'll lose that smirk when I figure this out!" Jarl snapped.

Hiccup did everything he could think of think of to free himself, but the earth dome simply wouldn’t give. All he could do was try to keep Jarl distracted.

"I still don't understand way Asketill hates me so much."

"I'm surprised that oaf Gobber didn't tell you," Jarl said casually, biting down on the bait. "Oh, yes. Your father and Asketill went to Berk at the same time, didn't you know? They loathed each other, right from the start. But he never wanted you _dead_."

"I highly doubt that," Hiccup muttered.

Then something Jarl had said earlier finally registered.

"You said Drago Bludvist was on your side...What did you mean by that?"

That did something. Hiccup could see a spasm of fear flit across Jarl's face.

"You don't mean to tell me that he was in the forest with you?" he pressed.

"He is with me wherever I go," Jarl said quietly. "After I left Berk, I wandered around the world, trying to find him, to get him to teach me more. I wanted to be the man that found the Dragon Lord, and I succeeded. He showed me that there is no good or evil, only power and those too weak to seek it. From that day on I have served him faithfully, although I have let him down many times. He has had to be very hard on me." Jarl shivered suddenly. "He does not simply forgive mistakes. When I failed to steal the Stone from Gringotts, he was most displeased. He punished me…decided he would have to keep a close watch on me…"

"Looks like he going to punish you again," Hiccup said, noticing Jarl's frustration.

Jarl ignored him and stared angrily at the Mirror.

"I don't understand…is the Stone _inside_ the Mirror? Should I break it?"

Hiccup knew the Mirror would show people their heart’s desire, and wondered if he looked into it he'd be able to see where the Stone was hidden. Unfortunately, Hiccup was stuck tight in the earth dome, so he couldn't get in front of the glass.

Jarl was cursing under his breath.

"What does the mirror do? How does it work? Please, Master, help me!"

And to Hiccup's horror, a voice answered, and the voice seemed to come from Jarl himself.

"The boy…Use the boy..."

Jarl rounded on Hiccup.

"Come here, Haddock!"

He clapped his hands once, and the earth dome that surrounded Hiccup disappeared.

"Come here," Jarl repeated, before Hiccup could even think to turn and run. "Look in the Mirror and tell me what you see. And if you don't help me, or try to run away…Well, she would never suspect me; perhaps your dear Astrid could pay the price."

It was the last thing that Hiccup wanted to do, but he had no other choice. He walked up to the Mirror, trembling. Jarl stayed behind him, and Hiccup could smell something weird coming from his strange helmet.

When he looked into the Mirror, he only saw his reflection in it. A moment later, however, his reflection grinned at him. It put its hand into his fur vest pocket and pulled out a blood-red stone, which glinted in the weak firelight. His reflection winked and placed the Stone back in its pocket—and as it did so, Hiccup felt something heavy drop into his real pocket. Somehow—incredibly— _he'd got the Stone_.

"Well?" Jarl demanded impatiently. "What do you see?"

Hiccup screwed up his courage.

"I-I see myself shaking hands with Alvis the Noble," he invented. "I-I've won Th-the House Cup for Gryffindor."

Jarl cursed again. He pushed Hiccup aside and went back to studying the Mirror. It was then Hiccup decided to make a break for it.

But he hadn't walked five paces before a deep booming voice spoke, though Jarl wasn't moving his lips.

"He’s lying…"

"Come back here, Haddock!" Jarl shouted. "Tell me the truth! What did you see?!"

The deep booming voice spoke again.

"Let me speak to him…face to face…"

"Master, you’re not strong enough yet!"

"Nonsense…I have enough strength…for this…"

"Very well...If you insist..."

Hiccup felt as though he was trapped in Hel’s Snare once more. Every bone in his body wanted to run, but he could hardly move a muscle; he was forced to watch as Jarl removed his strange helmet, letting it fall to the ground with a dull clang. His head looked strangely small without it. He shot Hiccup a strange smile and turned slowly on the spot.

What Hiccup saw next was so disturbing he had to fight the urge to scream.

Where there should have been a back to Jarl's head, there was a face, the most terrible face Hiccup had ever seen. It had a long, thick black beard which Hiccup had once thought was Jarl's back hair, glaring red eyes, and scars all over its "face".

"Hiccup Haddock…" it growled.

Hiccup didn't have to guess who this was. "Drago!" he gasped.

"In the flesh…so to speak," the face said. "I have to say, your… _father_ would die of shame if he could see you now."

"Oh, that's rich coming from you," Hiccup said before he could stop himself.

But the face just chuckled. "True, thanks to _you_ I've become a mere shadow and vapor…I have form only when I share another's body, like a mere parasite…but there has always been those willing to let me into their hearts and minds…Unicorn blood has strengthened me, these past few weeks…you saw faithful Jarl drinking it for me in the Cove…and once I have the Elixir of Life, I will be able to create a body of my own…Now…why don't you give me that Stone in your pocket?"

So he knew. Hiccup pulled out his sword, ready to fight.

"Don't be a fool, lad," the face growled. "Better to save your own life and join me…or else you'll end up meeting the same gruesome fate your parents did…They died begging me for mercy… "

"You know what the advantages of being a bad liar are?" Hiccup asked, not lowering his sword. "I can tell when someone is lying."

Jarl walked backwards, so that Drago could still see him. The evil face was now smiling a twisted, sickening smile.

"Just as brave as your parents it would seem," it said with a chuckle. "I must admit, I admire your courage…your father was just as defiant; I fought with him many times, but the day I killed him, he was unprepared…but your poor mother, she needn't have died…she was merely trying to protect you, her only son…Now give me the Stone, lad, unless you want her to have died in vain…And what about your beloved Astrid? Surely she wouldn’t want you to die for this?"

Drago definitely should _not_ have said that.

Hiccup pulled the Stone out of his vest pocket, his hand trembling with rage. At first, Drago smirked, probably thinking that this had been too easy, but Hiccup yelled out, "You want the stone, Drago? Come and get it!"

He then tossed the stone high into the air. Drago ordered Jarl to catch it, but before the man could move, Hiccup lifted his sword and blasted the Stone with a fireball, destroying it. The ashes fell to the ground beside him in a heap, which he proceeded to stomp on for good measure.

Drago glared at him, and yelled to Jarl, "KILL HIM!"

Jarl obeyed with hesitation; he spun on his heel and tackled Hiccup, forcing him to drop his sword, and began to strangle him. At once, a needle-sharp pain seared across his scar; his head felt as though it was about to split in two. To his surprise, Jarl promptly released him. The pain lessened slightly—He looked around wildly to see where Jarl had gone, and saw him hunched in pain, staring in bewilderment at his hands—they looked as though they had just been badly burned.

"What is this magic?!" Jarl cried out in agonizing pain.

"Never mind that, you fool, kill him already!" Drago yelled.

Jarl struggled to his feet and charged once more, but Hiccup acted on instinct and placed his hands on Jarl’s face.

The effect was instant; Jarl's face began to blister and bleed terribly. The man screamed and tried to throw Hiccup off, but he held on as tight as he could—the pain in his head was building—Jarl kept screaming, but Drago’s roars of, "KILL HIM! KILL HIM!" were even louder—everything around Hiccup was beginning to go fuzzy—he could suddenly hear other voices, maybe in his own head, calling out his name—

Hiccup crumpled to the ground, and everything around him faded to black.

* * *

Slowly, very slowly, Hiccup forced his eyes to open. Everything appeared to be blurry, as though he had just awoken from a very long nap. And something gleaming and golden was fluttering just within Hiccup's reach, taunting him with its allure. He tried to reach out for it, but his arms simply wouldn't move.

He blinked. He had been looking at hair. Hair that just so happened to belong to Astrid Hofferson.

Hiccup's face turned bright red, and he sat bolt upright, trying to figure out what was going on.

He was in the Infirmary; he recognized it from the night Astrid had sprained her ankle. Outside, the sun was just beginning to rise. And next to him, sitting calmly in a rickety old chair, was Alvis the Noble.

"Good morning, Hiccup," Alvis greeted pleasantly, as though Hiccup had merely gone to sleep a few hours before.

It took a second for Hiccup to remember all that had happened before he passed out. "Sir, its Jarl! He and—"

"Please, do calm yourself, Hiccup, you've been out cold for quite a while," Alvis said. "You'll wake Astrid if you're not careful, and the poor dear has hardly slept at all since you were brought in."

"But, sir—"

"Hiccup, you must relax, or Bergljot will have me thrown out," Alvis said calmly. "She herself said if you were a normal person, you would have died."

"I'll take that as a complement," Hiccup said dryly, making Alvis laugh.

He then noticed that next to him (well, besides Astrid, that is) was a table piled high with what looked like half the sweet-shop.

"Tokens from your friends and admirers," Alvis explained, beaming.

"What do you mean by, _admirers_?" Hiccup asked, confused.

"What happened down in the dungeons between you and Jarl is a complete secret, so, naturally, the whole academy knows. I believe your friends Misters Double and Trouble Hofferson tried to sneak Toothless, Blood-Spatter, and Sharpshot in. No doubt they thought it would cheer you up. Bergljot, however, opened the large box where the dragons were hiding and sent them back to sender."

"So Ragnar and Toothless are alright?"

"Yes, they're fine. As is Miss Hofferson here, but she stubbornly refused to leave your bedside until you were well. She'll be very disappointed that she wasn't awake when you came to, but it was necessary for her to get some sleep; she's sat here for almost three days."

"Three days?" Hiccup croaked. "I've been here for _three days...?"_

"Indeed, and I must say I understand how concerned she was. I too was quite worried when you failed to wake up after a few hours."

Hiccup then remembered what he had done to the Stone and feared what Alvis would say.

"Sir, a-about the Stone—"

"Gobber was telling the truth when he said you like to get straight to the point," Alvis said, chuckling. "Don't worry, my boy, I know that you destroyed the Stone, and I must say it was incredibly wise of you."

Hiccup hadn’t been expecting a response like that. "It-it was?"

"Oh yes, better destroyed than in the hands of either Jarl or his dark master."

"But sir—that means Flamel—"

"Oh, you know about Flamel the Eternal?" Alvis asked, sounding quite delighted. "You _did_ do this properly, didn't you? Well, Flamel and I have had a little chat, and he agreed that you did the proper thing."

"But that means he and his wife will die, won't they?"

"They have enough Elixir stored to set their affairs in order and then, yes, they will die." Hiccup looked at Alvis guiltily. "They don't blame you, Hiccup. In fact, to them it will be like going to bed after a very, _very_ long day. After all, a true Viking does not fear death, but thinks of it as the next great adventure. Remember that."

"Yes sir."

It made Hiccup feel a little better about destroying the Stone, but he still felt a twinge of guilt in the back of his mind.

"Sir…" Hiccup began. "I've been thinking…even if the Stone's gone, Dra—I mean, the Dragon Lord—"

"Call him Drago, Hiccup. Always use the proper name for things. Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself."

"I understand, sir. Well, Drago's going to try other ways of coming back, isn't he?"

"I'm afraid so, Hiccup. He is still out there somewhere, perhaps looking for another body to share…not being truly alive, he cannot be killed. He left Jarl to die; he shows just as little mercy to his followers as he does his enemies. Nevertheless, you have delayed him, and for now that is enough of a victory for us all."

Hiccup nodded, but he still had hundreds of questions in his head.

"Sir, there are some things that I would like to know," he said.

"And I will answer them to the best of my ability," Alvis said. "I’m afraid I can't tell you everything, of course. The truth is both beautiful and terrible, and as such, it should be treated with the utmost caution. There are some answers that you will simply have to wait for."

Hiccup inwardly groaned at that, but he went on anyways.

"Drago said that he only killed my mother because she tried to stop him from killing me. But I don't understand; why did he want to kill me in the first place?"

Alvis paused, looking conflicted for a fraction of a second, before shaking his head. "I'm afraid that is a question I cannot answer. Not today. You have been brave, far braver than anyone could have expected from one so young, but you're not yet ready to hear the truth. But rest assured; I will tell you everything when you're older."

Of course, he didn't specify how old Hiccup would need to be. "Older" could mean when he was in his thirties, if he even managed to live that long. Hiccup wasn't happy, but he begrudgingly decided to let it go and hit him with the next question.

"Okay, fine, but why was Jarl unable to touch me?"

"Ah, now that is a question I _can_ answer. It is because your mother died to save you; the ultimate sign of her love for you. And if there is one thing, one beautiful bit of magic that Drago simply cannot understand, its love. He didn't realize that love as powerful as your mother's for you leaves its own mark. Not a scar, nor a visible sign, but something deeper. For you see, in all of Core Magic, love is the most powerful, and your mother's love runs through your veins. Jarl, full of hate, greed, and heartless ambition from sharing his soul with Drago, could not touch you for this reason. It would have been agony for him to touch a person marked by something so good."

Alvis then became very interested in a Terrible Terror perched on the windowsill, which gave Hiccup time to scrub at his eyes with the back of his sleeve. When he had at last found his voice again, Hiccup said, "And it was you who sent me the Invisibility Cape, wasn't it?"

Alvis beamed. "Very well guessed, Hiccup."

"Well, the fact that you weren’t surprised that I had it _was_ a bit of a clue."

"Fair enough," Alvis chuckled. "Stoick left it in my possession shortly before he died, and I felt it was high time the Cape was returned to its rightful owner. I should hope that you'll only use it for useful things. Your father always claimed that it was for noble purposes only, and not to be used for merely your own benefit…Needless to say, he used it numerous times to spy on your mother when they were teenagers." He then smiled at Hiccup. "Did you know that I was planning on making him the Headmaster of Berk when the war was over?"

Hiccup shook his head.

"Yes, for all of his faults, Stoick was a very skilled man, and an even greater leader. Every time he and Drago fought, the battles would almost always end in a stalemate. You could never tell which one was more annoyed by that."

After hearing so much about his parents over the past year, the information no longer made Hiccup happy. Now he felt sadness, for he would never know them, never hear their voices or feel their arms around him. His friends were lucky…

"And while we're on the topic about my father, there is something I want to ask…"

"And what would that be?"

"Jarl said that Asketill hated my dad. Is it true?"

"Yes, they rather detested each other. Not unlike yourself and Mr Jorgenson, but they more often fought with their fists. Your mother was constantly being forced to break up their fights, because most of Stoick's friends only egged them on. But then, your father did something that Asketill could never forgive."

Oh, that didn't sound good.

"What did he do?"

"He saved his life."

" _What_?"

"Yes…" Alvis said dreamily. "Funny, the way people's minds work, isn't it? Asketill couldn't bear being in your father's debt…I do believe he worked so hard to protect you this year because he felt that would make him and your father even. That way, he could go back to hating your father's memory in peace…"

Hiccup couldn't really understand it, so he didn't try to.

"And sir, there's one more thing…"

"Just one more question?"

"Well, for now, anyways," Hiccup admitted, making Alvis chuckle. "How did I get the Stone out of the Mirror?"

"Ah, now, I'm very glad you asked me that. You see, only someone who wanted to _find_ the Stone, but not use it, would be able to get it. It was one of my more brilliant ideas, and between you and me, that's saying something."

He then got up and prepared to leave.

"That is enough questions for now. I suggest you make a start on these sweets," he said. He was about to leave, but stopped when he noticed a box of Bertie Bott's Every-Flavor Beans. "Ah, Bertie Bott's Every-Flavor Beans! I was unfortunate enough in my youth to come across a vomit-flavored one, and since then I'm afraid I've rather lost my liking for them. But I think I'll be safe with a nice toffee, don't you?"

He smiled and popped the golden-brown bean into his mouth. He then promptly choked and exclaimed, "Alas—Earwax!"

* * *

A few hours passed. Astrid was still asleep, and Hiccup was unsure if he should wake her. Alvis had said she’d hardly slept at all in the last three days, and judging by the bags under her eyes, she definitely needed the rest.

And despite how docile she looked right now, he knew exactly how she would react if he woke her up...

Bergljot the Helpful approached Hiccup, pulling him out of his thoughts. Bergljot was a nice enough woman, but she was very strict.

"You've got another visitor," she said.

"Who are they?" he asked, though he had a good idea.

Sure enough, Ragnar came in.

"You have ten minutes _only_ ," Bergljot said to him. "And be gentle with him, he's still recovering."

Once she left the room, Ragnar walked up to Hiccup’s bedside.

"How long has she been asleep?" he asked, pointing to Astrid.

Hiccup shrugged. "She was like this when I woke up."

"And you didn't wake her?"

"Alvis said she needed to rest…"

Ragnar rolled his eyes. "She didn’t sit here for three days for her health. She’d want to be woken up, you know that."

He had a point there.

Hiccup gulped, but he knew Ragnar was right. He reached out and gently shook the young Valkyrie's shoulder.

"Astrid," he whispered. "Astrid, wake up…"

Astrid's sapphire blue eyes fluttered open. She looked around in confusion, before her gaze settled onto Hiccup.

He smiled nervously at her. "H-hello…"

The first thing that she did was punch his shoulder _._ It wasn’t her worst—he’d seen her worst; it usually ended with broken bones—but good _gods_ did it hurt.

 _"That_ was for scaring us," she said, giving him that same glare she had given him when he rescued her from the troll.

Even though he’d seen that reaction coming, Hiccup found himself getting angry. "What? It's not like I _meant_ to pass out for three days! And you’re one to talk, after willingly getting yourself knocked out in a life-size chess game! Is it always going to be like this, Astrid?! Because—"

He was unable to finish his rant, because Astrid kissed him on the cheek and hugged him tightly. They both looked at each other, blushing. "…I could get use it," he finished.

Astrid snorted and pulled away. "Don't you _ever_ pull something like that again, you hear me?"

"Don’t get yourself into a life-or-death situation and we have a deal."

"I wouldn't hit him anymore," Ragnar advised, looking amused, "Or Bergljot will throw us out."

"She couldn't kick me out before."

"Good for you—what about me?"

"So, what's been going on?" Hiccup intervened, rubbing his already-sore shoulder ( _"This better not bruise, Astrid,"_ he said to himself).

"Well, everyone has been talking about us, especially you," Ragnar said. "And most of them have been positive."

It was one of those rare occasions when the true story was even more strange and exciting than the wild rumors. Hiccup told them everything: Jarl; the Mirror; the Stone, and Drago. He left out only one thing; that both Jarl and Drago had tried to use his feelings for Astrid to get him to do what they wanted. Neither of them needed to know about _that_ tidbit of information.

Ragnar and Astrid were a very good audience; they gasped in all the right places, and when Hiccup told them what had been under Jarl's helmet, Astrid looked like she was about to be sick.

"So the Stone's gone?" Ragnar finally said, after a long moment of silence.

"Yep, and surprisingly Flamel's not angry at me," Hiccup said.

"Guess after living for over six hundred years, life can get a bit boring," Astrid said.

"So what happened to you two?" Hiccup asked. _This_ was the story he wanted to know.

"Well, Toothless and I got back alright," Ragnar said. "We brought Astrid round—By Odin, that took us a while—and we were dashing up to the stables to contact Alvis when we met him in the Great Hall. He already knew—he just said, 'Hiccup's gone after him, hasn't he?' and hurtled off to the third floor."

"I still can't believe that he had your father's Cape," Astrid said.

"From the way he talked, it sounds as though he knew what we were up to the entire time," Ragnar added.

"I guess he wanted me to meet Drago face to face. I really don't think it was an accident he let me find out how the Mirror worked," Hiccup mused thoughtfully.  "It's almost like he thought I had the right to face Drago if I could...."

"He's definitely not an easy guy to understand," Astrid said.

"I hope you two can come to the end-of-year feast tomorrow. The points are all in and Slytherin won, of course. We didn't have a Seeker to replace Hiccup in the last Dragon Racing match; we were steamrollered by Ravenclaw without him, and it bumped us into last place—but the food will be good," Ragnar said.

At that moment, Bergljot entered the room.

"I'm afraid you two will have to leave, you've had nearly fifteen minutes," she stated firmly.

Astrid seated herself on the edge of Hiccup's sickbed, a defiant glare in her eyes. "I’m not leaving."

"Miss Hofferson, you were allowed to stay until Haddock was well—"

"So you’re letting him leave now, then?"

"What? No, of course not!"

"Then I’m staying."

The two had a long stare-down, neither willing to back down.

Finally, Bergljot threw her hands into the air in frustration. "Oh for the love of—Mr. Wicket, get out!"

Ragnar nodded, but he couldn’t quite contain his grin. "Bye, Hiccup. Bye, Astrid."

* * *

After a good night's sleep, Hiccup felt nearly back to normal.

"Is it alright for me to go to the feast?" he asked Bergljot, as she straightened his many sweet-boxes. Astrid sat beside him, fiddling with her necklace.

"Alvis says you are allowed to go," Bergljot said stiffly, as though in her opinion Alvis didn't know about the dangers of a feast. "Oh, and you've got another visitor."

"Oh? Who is it?" Hiccup asked.

Gobber sidled through the door as he spoke. It wasn't easy for the giant to reach the bed, but he finally managed it. He sat down next to Hiccup.

"It's my fault that yer in here!" he grumbled. "I can't believe I told that man how to get past Rover! The only thing he didn’t know, an’ I told him! If yer father was alive, he’d have killed me! All fer a stupid Fire Gem! I'll never drink again!"

"Can I get that in writing?" Astrid asked. Hiccup elbowed her sharply in the gut, and she laughed.

"Don't beat yourself up about it, Gobber," Hiccup said, trying to calm the man down. "He'd find out somehow, this is Drago Bludvist we're talking about, he'd have found out even if you hadn't told him."

"That's no excuse fer my actions," Gobber grunted. "An' don't say the name!"

"DRAGO BLUDVIST!" Hiccup bellowed. Astrid and Gobber stared at him in shock. "I've met him and I'm calling him by his name. Please cheer up, Gobber, we saved the Stone, it's gone, he can't use it. Have a Chocolate Fireworm, I've got plenty…"

Gobber just smiled at him and said, "Yeh sound just like yer mother." Hiccup couldn't help but smile back. "And that reminds me. I've got yeh a present. Alvis gave me a bit of time off yesterday to fix it."

He then pulled out a handsome, leather-covered book. Hiccup opened it curiously. It was full of Viking photographs. Smiling and waving at him from every page were his mother and father, standing beside their dragons Cloudjumper and Skullcrusher.

"Sent some Terrors off to all yer parents' old academy friends, asking' fer photos…knew yeh didn't have any of yer own…Do yeh like it?"

Hiccup looked at photo album, up at Astrid, and then back at Gobber.

"I don't have the words."

* * *

Hiccup was soon able to leave the Infirmary, and the moment he did, he was run over by Toothless, Sharpshot and Blood-Spatter, all of whom began to lick him furiously.

"Oh gods—guys, come on!" he yelled, trying to free himself from the dragons. Astrid was no help; she was too busy laughing at his predicament.

When the three finally stopped licking him, Hiccup looked at them and gave them a big hug.

"I missed you too, guys."

After taking a reluctant Toothless back to the stables, Hiccup and Astrid made their way to the Great Hall. It was decked out in Slytherin colors of green and silver to celebrate Slytherin's winning the House Cup for the seventh year in a row. A huge banner showing the Slytherin Hideous Zippleback covered the wall behind the High Table.

After placing their Viking helmets on their heads (And Astrid straightening his, much to his confusion), they walked down towards the Gryffindor table, with Sharpshot on Astrid's shoulder, and Blood-Spatter on Hiccup's. They slipped in next to Ragnar, and tried to ignore the fact that people were standing up to look at them.

Fortunately, Alvis arrived moments later, and everyone quickly fell silent.

"Another year has gone!" Alvis called cheerfully. "What a year it has been! Hopefully your heads are all a little fuller than they were...Rest assured, you have the whole summer to get them nice and empty before next year starts...And now, as I understand it, the House Cup needs awarding.

"The points stand thus: in fourth place, Gryffindor, with three hundred and twenty-two points; in third, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty-three; Ravenclaw have four hundred and twenty-six and Slytherin, four hundred and eighty-two."

A storm of cheering and stamping broke out from the Slytherin table. Hiccup could see Snotlout banging his goblet on the table and looking proud. It was a sickening sight.

"Yes, yes, well done, Slytherin," Alvis said. "However, recent events must be taken into account."

The room went very still. The Slytherins' smiles faded a little.

"And I have a few last-minute points to award…

"First—to Miss Astrid Hofferson…for being fearless when faced with a great challenge of sacrifice, and for the best-played game of Viking chess Berk has seen in many years, I award Gryffindor house fifty points."

Astrid blushed bright pink as the Hofferson twins patted her on the back and the rest of her house cheered. Askeladden could be heard telling the other Prefects, "My sister, you know! My only sister! She got past Phlegma the Fierce's giant chess set!"

At last there was silence again.

"Second—to Mr Ragnar Wicket…for the use of cool logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor fifty points."

Ragnar looked slightly embarrassed as he too was patted on the back. Gryffindors up and down the table were beside themselves—they were a hundred points up.

"Third—to Mr Hiccup Haddock…" Alvis went on. Predictably, the room went deathly quiet. "…for pure nerve and outstanding courage that would make his ancestors very proud indeed, I award Gryffindor house sixty points."

The cheers that came from the Gryffindors were almost deafening—Hiccup had to fight the urge to cover his ears.

"We're tied with Slytherin," Ragnar announced. This made the Gryffindor grow quiet, as they all wished that Alvis had given them just one more point.

They were then surprised that Alvis raised his hand again.

"There are many kinds of courage," Alvis said, smiling. "It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to your enemies, but a great deal more to stand up to your friends. I therefore award ten points to Mr Fishlegs Ingerman."

Someone standing outside the Great Hall might well have thought a sort of explosion had taken place, so loud was the noise that erupted from the Gryffindor table. Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar stood up to scream and cheer amongst the crowd as Fishlegs just sat there, speechless, before he disappeared under a pile of people hugging him. Fishlegs had never won so much as a point for Gryffindor, and now he had saved them. Hiccup, still cheering, nudged Astrid in the ribs and pointed to Snotlout. The bully looked as though a dragon had just landed on him, and that made them both cheer even harder.

"Now, assuming my calculations are correct," Alvis called over the storm of applause, for even the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff houses were celebrating the downfall of Slytherin, "a little change of decoration is in order."

He swung his prosthetic axe in a circle. In an instant, the green hangings became scarlet, and the sliver became gold: the huge Slytherin Hideous Zippleback vanished, and a towering Gryffindor Monstrous Nightmare took its place.

Upon seeing this, every single student, apart from the Slytherins of course, tossed their Viking helmets into the air, cheering. Bad decision though this may have been, Alvar the Charmer quickly lifted his own weapon to stop them from hitting any students.

Asketill was shaking Phlegma's hand, a horribly forced smile on his face. He caught Hiccup's eye, and Hiccup knew at once that Asketill's feelings towards him hadn't changed one jot. This didn't worry him at all. It seemed life would be back to normal next year, or as normal as it ever was at the Berk Dragon Academy.

One thing was for sure. It was the best evening of Hiccup's life, better than winning at Dragon Racing, or Snoggletog, or knocking out a mountain troll...he would never, ever forget this night.

* * *

Hiccup had forgotten that the exam results were still to come, but come they did.

To his relief, he had got very good marks; in fact, he was very close to Ragnar, who came top of the year. Astrid was only behind them by a couple of Ravenclaw students. Fishlegs didn't do too bad either; he got good marks from Herbology and History of Magic, and his knowledge about dragons from Combat Arts was almost as good as Ragnar and Hiccup. Even the Thorston twins had gotten good marks, despite the fact that they had blown up most of the class rooms. A few people had dubbed them the new Double and Trouble, and the Hofferson twins looked at them with very obvious pride.

Much to Hiccup and Astrid's disappointment, Falskur and Hjartán, who thought that a sheep was a type of dragon, had managed to pass, too, but only barely. Ragnar saw their unhappy faces and told them, "You can’t have everything in life."

As they got packed and prepared for the long journey home, notes were handed out to all students, warning them that their riding dragons would remain on Berk and not to use magic over the holidays ("I always hope they'll forget to give us these," Double Hofferson said sadly). After saying a heartfelt goodbye to Toothless, Hiccup went with the other first year students back to the fleet of boats, led once more by Gobber, and boarded the Berk Express.

It was long journey back, full of talking and laughter as the countryside became greener and tidier; eating Bertie Bott's Every-Flavor Beans as they sped past Muggle towns. Hiccup noticed that the tattoos on their bodies started to disappear as they got farther and farther away from Berk.

They arrived at platform nine and three-quarters at far too soon for Hiccup’s liking. It took quite a while for them all to get off the platform. An old Viking guard was standing by the ticket barrier; he let them go through the gate in twos or threes so they didn't attract attention by all bursting out of a solid wall at once and alarming the Muggles.

"You _have_ to come and stay this summer," Astrid told them. "Both of you; I'll send you two a Terror."

"Thanks," Hiccup said, grinning. "I can't tell you how looking forward I'll be to come round yours."

People jostled them as they moved forwards towards the gateway back to the Muggle world. Some of them called:

"Bye, Hiccup!"

"See you, Haddock!"

"Still famous," Ragnar noted, grinning at Hiccup.

"Not where I'm going," Hiccup muttered.

He, Astrid and Ragnar passed through the gateway together.

"There he is, mama, there he is, look!"

It was Astrid's little brother, Egill, and he was pointing directly at Hiccup.

"Hiccup Haddock!" he squealed, looking delighted. "Look, Mama! I can see—"

"Egill, stop that."

Mrs. Hofferson smiled down at them.

"Busy year?" she asked.

"That would be an understatement," Hiccup answered. "Thank you for the fudge and the jumper, Mrs. Hofferson."

"Oh, it's the _least_ I could do for the young man who saved my daughter."

Hiccup and Astrid blushed and looked away from each other.

"It-it wasn't just me," Hiccup admitted, sparing a glance at Ragnar, who was politely trying not to laugh at them.

"I know, and I can't thank both of you enough."

Astrid then elbowed him on the arm and nudged her head forwards. Hiccup looked around and saw what she was getting at. He saw his Uncle Björn walking up, with his Aunt SkaÐi and his cousin Balder, who was looking terrified at the very sight of Hiccup. No doubt she guessed it was them from the descriptions he'd given her.

Uncle Björn’s face was still a bright purple, still mustached, and still looking furious at the nerve of Hiccup carrying a dragon in a cage (and having one perched happily on his shoulder) in a station full of "ordinary" people.

"Ready, are you?" he barked.

"You must be Hiccup's family!" Mrs. Hofferson exclaimed.

"In a manner of speaking," Uncle Björn growled, as though admitting it was very painful for him. "Hurry up, boy, we haven't got all day!"

They walked away.

Astrid shot their retreating figures a dirty look. "They’re as bad as you said they were."

(Actually they were worse, but Hiccup didn’t have the heart to tell her that)

"Are you sure you have to go back with them?" Ragnar asked. "I can hide you in my house; I don’t think my Mum will mind..."

"Oh don't worry, I'll be fine," Hiccup assured them. Both Astrid and Ragnar looked confused at the grin that was spreading over his face. " _They_ have no idea that I'm not allowed to use magic at home. I'm going to have a lot of fun with Balder this summer…"

* * *

**Oh if only he knew...**

**On a happier note, we've done it folks! Book One is officially completed (even if I may have to go back and fix a couple errors that managed to escape unnoticed), and I'm really happy with how it turned out.**

**Before we get to the shout-outs, I'd like to take this opportunity to say a special thanks to my editor. Without her, this story would not have gotten finished as quickly as it did, and it probably wouldn't be as good. She's in this for the long haul, same as me, and I'm confident that we will make this universe as unique and compelling as we can.**

**And now, a shout-out to everyone who has bookmarked, clicked kudos and/or left a comment on this story:**

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**Chapter one of Book Two: The Chamber of Secrets will be posted March 20th, the first day of spring. Until then, this is Chasingstardust22, signing out.**


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